Fragments of the Forgotten
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: Due to his incomparable Bookman memory to remember exact details, Lavi's reincarnated self remembers nearly every adventure he's embarked on as an Exorcist, yet his comrades don't remember a thing. Well, that's certianly a problem. :: Laven future-set AU
1. Tip of the Iceburg

**Title: **Fragments of the Forgotten

**Rating: **T for language, flashbacks of gore, and hormone-fueled touchy-feely moments

**Summary:** Due to his incomparable Bookman memory to remember exact details, Lavi's reincarnated self remembers nearly every adventure he's embarked on as an Exorcist. But what's this? All of his comrades are In this new world as well, yet have no memory of their past? Well, that's certainly a problem. .:. LaviAllen. Some KandaLinalee and light KroryMiranda. Future-set AU.

**FYI: **Events of the "past" might be changed since the manga isn't finished, and I skipped a couple chapters of it near the end of what onemanga has posted currently (up to ch.184).  
Also, this chapter might seem long-winded, but that's because I want to explain a lot of things. About halfway through, please don't get bored and please just keep reading, okay? Events will start to move around the time of Linalee's and Lavi's coffee chat (you'll see what I mean), so be patient. All the following chapters form here on out will be nothing but events, I promise, but this chapter needs some explaining since it's the opening one.

Okay? :D

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**A/N: Yes, like so many others, I decided to do a reincarnation fic. Why? Because I love them, and had a pretty good idea. Now, if this idea is somehow already taken, please inform me. And even if it is, I swear that I didn't know, and am sorry, and will definitely do this a lot differently than whoever did it before. And if I am semi-original with my idea, then I'm glad!**

**This pairing is my new obsession, I swear. For the longest time my obsession was NaruGaa (NarutoXGaara), and for a shorter period it was SatoDai (SatoshiXDaisuke), but now I can't seem to get Laven (LaviXAllen) out of my head. I just think they go so well together~! :D**

**Oh, and everyone's AU ages are as follows…  
Kanda is nineteen (college sophomore), Linalee is seventeen (high school junior), Allen is sixteen (high school sophomore), Lavi is eighteen (college freshman), Krory is twenty-seven, Miranda is twenty-five, Komui is twenty-nine, Levier is about forty, Inspector Link is about thirty-or-so, Hevlaska is thirty-three.**

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_[I]  
.Tip of the Iceberg._

_It's impossible to understand the implications set upon oneself when one remembers an entirely different lifetime prior to the one they are living now._

_Unfortunately for a redheaded college lad by the name of Lavi, this is the case: he recalls an era years and years in the past, perhaps anywhere between one hundred to one hundred fifty years ago, about a place in England with a tall black tower, buzzing golems, irritable generals and loyal comrades. He remembers almost everything, like how he had been raised and what the names and faces of his friends were, what they were like, and most importantly, what trials they went through together against Akuma – demons – and the Millennium Earl – the devil, so to speak._

_Somewhere mixed into the old world atmosphere, Lavi holds a small memory in the dark, as tiny and bright as a flickering candle flame, of someone he loved from that time period. He also remembers that as a Bookman successor, he wasn't supposed to care for anyone or anything, and was supposed to be hollow inside, his emotions snuffed out and his thoughts clear. He wasn't supposed to be attached to worldly things, and yet Lavi distinctly remembers throwing that rule away and coming what would be a sin in the Bookman's rulebook: he got romantically involved with someone._

_And that someone, the new Lavi recalls, is a boy by the name of Allen Walker._

o0-0o

"Watch where you're going, you stupid rabbit!" Yuu Kanda snaps in my general direction.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you can't see passed all that girly hair!" I snap back. I scramble up from the ground and pick my backpack up. Some things just never change, even through lifetimes: Kanda hates everyone, but gets especially annoyed with me. The same names are called, as well as the same glares are given. If Allen were here, Yuu would be especially annoyed with him, too…

I sigh, trying to force the thoughts of my once-lover away. There possibility of me seeing him again in this life is slim to none, although I have seen the occasional familiar face here and there, accompanied by a familiar name and voice. Still, I never spy Allen's white hair in the crowd. For all I know, he could not have been reincarnated, or his hair could be a different color. Or he could live on the other side of the world.

Shrugging my backpack on, I storm off in the opposite direction of Yuu, even though we technically have the same class to go to. This route will make me late, but since when does Professor Lee care? He's sometimes late himself, or asleep at his desk. I hope he's asleep today. The method we use to wake him up is hilarious: it's done by telling him that his younger sister, Linalee, is dating or marrying some unknown guy. Or Bak. It's more fun to say that it's Bak, actually; the guy is head over heels for her, almost to the point of being a stalker, and yet gets turned down by her every time because she says that a four-year difference is too old for her. It's amusing as hell, because when we tell Professor Lee that she's going to date/marry the older blonde, he completely wigs out.

When I walk into the classroom, the teacher is already scribbling at the whiteboard, the Expo marker in his hand squeaking every now and then. Damn, there goes my hope of him being asleep.

I find a seat as far from Kanda as possible, my sore shoulder and aching tailbone reminding me of how he shoved me moments ago.

"Glad to see that you're not ditching, Mr. Deak," the professor states with his back turned to us. I chuckle weakly and get out my science book open to the page number he has scrolled in the corner of the board.

I'm not really into the science that Komui Lee teaches; I'm more into psychology and other mental stuff. I want to become an internist, which is like this special kind of physician that practices the study of internal medicine. To me, becoming a doctor of some sort seems to be the best way to utilize my talents, especially my impeccable memory.

While Komui drones on, I suppose I can afford my thoughts to wander a while…

See, my memory is better than photographic. It's full of not only more detailed glimpses than the average person's, but it also has sounds and fragments of whatever I was feeling at the time incorporated into them. I can remember everything from this life now, but there are some memories and déjà vu moments I get from a time before this.

One day, I literally awoke from an intense dream and knew that it wasn't merely a dream. I knew that it was a figment of something most people would have forgotten: a memory of my previous life. Now, I don't really believe much in reincarnation, but it's the sole explanation for the flashbacks I get on a whim. Take for instance when I first met Linalee Lee, one of my closest friends: her silky black hair was in long pigtails, and she had on a black skirt with high boots and a long-sleeved blouse.

The second I saw her, it was like something clicked in my brain. I called out what I thought to be her name in a timid voice. She had turned around, blinking, and smiled at me. 'Hello. How did you know my name?' she had asked. We had a class together, despite the fact that she is a year younger than me. I was a sophomore in high school at the time, she a freshman. We were forced to sit next to one another in math class, and since then, we've been friends. Once, she wondered aloud, 'Why is it that I feel so comfortable around you, Lavi? Even when we met, you looked familiar to me. Did we know each other when we were younger?'

In reality, we've known one another since we were roughly the same age, yet from one hundred-or-so years ago. But I couldn't tell her that; so I shrugged and changed the subject. She never brought it up again, but I've hinted now and then about things we went through together. I want to see if I can get any of my friends to remember being the demon-spirit slaying Exorcists they used to be. I want to see if I'm the only one who has any recollection of that chaotic life.

Even if I am the only one, I won't mind. It's nice to see everyone blissfully carefree and alive, as opposed to the final scrap of that life that I recall…

_The city was dark and soaked in blood. Human remains lay scattered in every which direction, level two, three, and four Akumas floating about. The Millennium Earl was in the very heart of the devastation, the same sadistic smirk and falsely adoring tone in his creepy voice. _

_Grunts from impact, cries of pain, and screams of sorrow echoed throughout the city as the sky ran black with soot from the fires being caused by one of the level threes. The remaining Noahs flocked around us, trying to dispel our attacks and protect their master, the Earl. But with a little effort, we defeated them. We were much stronger by this time, and knew what we were doing._

_Aiming to get revenge and indirectly act to fulfill a prophecy made about him, Allen rushed forward and attacked the Earl, his ultimate weapon out before him. He was so confident, so brave… _

_Behind him, the rest of us fought the Akuma to allow Allen a shorter range, as well as to protect him. I had promised that I would always protect him, so help me God. I told him over and over before this last battle that I loved him, and would love him for all eternity, the Bookman laws be dammed. I told him that he won't have to worry about us, and that he should only worry about the Earl. We would help him in any way we could, but for the most part, this was his fight. And we knew it._

_In the commotion, it was difficult to discern what was happening around me. Yet I could still make out voices and the occasional figure, and I could see Allen leaping up higher and higher, from rooftop to rooftop, toward the Earl. _

_Nearby, Linalee screamed. I called to her, but she wouldn't answer. I heard panda-man take one last shuddering breath as he was knocked to the ground by my feet. I had always thought that he was so strong, almost invincible, despite his old age…_

_Even Komui was there. I know because he came in with Cross and other people of the Order, and when he did, he immediately went in search of his sister._

_But it was too late…_

I don't know the exact count of how many people I knew – some of which had been important to me – died that day. In my concluding memory (which I'm ashamed to say isn't as clear as the others), I remember no more than a few basic facts before my own death occurred: one, that Allen destroyed the Earl. Two, that every last Akuma was annihilated when the Earl's death swept over the barren cityscape. And three, that there was Allen's distressed face hanging over me as I relapsed into a comatose state prior to my death.

So there it is. Proof, so to speak, of why I'm content in this new life: no one is dying around me, and there is no enemies like the Earl or Akuma to face and possibly lose our lives to. Nothing is perfect – and if it comes close, it never lasts – but at least I'm saved the trouble of having to deal with such bedlam again.

Drifting back into the present, I stare at the open book page in front of me. It's nearly noon. I have classes mostly in the morning, and have a nice long break for lunch and the occasional nap before my last class in the afternoon. I'm supposed to meet with Linalee after my last class of the day; by then she should be out of school as well, and we'll be free to grab some coffees and walk through the park like we usually do. We're not dating (her brother would have my head for it, obviously), but we're very close friends. She and Yuu are a bit closer (despite his cold demeanor), having been friends since they were four years old. But I'm not jealous; it was like that when we were exorcists, too. Allen was closer to me, and that was all that had mattered.

Man, does he ever leave my mind? I'm trying to actual concentrate in class for once, and yet he invades my thoughts!

Even since I first started getting memories about him (which was when I was thirteen, I believe), he's been like a plague, spreading across my entire mind. I miss him so much. He had been younger than me by about three years, but he didn't act like it; he was mature for his age, and I was pretty immature for mine, so we were quite the match. I think I loved him before he loved me; but I'm not sure. At times there is a lacuna in a flashback or reminiscing moment. Usually it's as minor as a thought of mine or a color detail, but it can be as big as a missing chunk of dialogue or the precise sculpture of someone's face/body. It's those gaps that frustrate me most.

"Lavi," the teacher murmurs to me, directly over my shoulder.

I'm startled out of my thoughts with a jump. I turn towards him with a shallow, embarrassed smile on my lips. "Uh, yes, teach?"

"That's Professor Lee to you," he corrects with a wink over his rectangular glasses. He pushes them up on his nose with his pointer finger and asks, "Is it true that you're meeting with Lina again after school?"

"Er, yeah. She said she wanted me to help her plan her upcoming seventeenth birthday party over coffee." For once, I'm glad for his overprotective nature; there was a second there when I thought he was going to point out how I'm not paying attention whatsoever.

Komui pouts. "I thought she was going to let me help…"

I crack a smile. "Sorry, but it's not my fault; I guess she just doesn't want party advice from her overbearing older brother," I retort.

He jabs a finger in my face. "Shut up and get back to work, or I'll fail you."

Gulping, I nod. "Yes, sir."

He then walks away and starts bothering another student. I let out a sigh of relief. Sometimes that guy can be pretty intimidating; now I know how Allen felt in our first life when Komui would threaten to "fix" his arm.

The rest if the time in class passes smoothly. If only my English class could be as smooth! Our poor professor for that class, Miss Lotto, is terribly low in self esteem. When we were in the Order together – and yes, she's another comrade of mine who seems to trail me into this life form the last – she had been the same way. Miranda always felt 'useless' or a bother. But because of this, she was a gentle person who tried to help whenever she could. She's still like that, only in a teacher-way. I love having her as my English professor, but the class is rough because half of the students walk all over her as if we were in high school all over again. I help her out as much as I can, but it's heard to do when my peers keep using her.

The weird part about Miss Lotto, however, is that she seems to vaguely recall one or two things from our past life. She's the sole person I've met besides Miss Hevlaska – the mathematics professor, whom is similar to her past self due to her knack for percentages – that remembers anything. It's shreds, barely solid pieces, but they remember. Miss Lotto knew my name before she even looked at the attendance records or asked it of anyone. And Miss Hevlaska gave me a percentage out of nowhere, and murmured the word 'synchronization' along with it. She didn't understand why, neither of my teachers understood why they knew these things, but I did. I was relatively close to Miranda, at least enough that she could remember me. And Hevlaska was recalling what my synchronization rate was with my anti-Akuma weapon (it was a large extendable hammer with element-related seals).

Funny, I never thought such minor details like a number or a name could carry on into other lifetimes. The name detail is a bit larger than the number in it's importance, but it's still merely one word. One word, yet Miranda remembered it, even if I look differently than the version of me she knew back then.

In this lifetime, my hair is the same unruly fire red that spikes in multiple places, a slightly curly cowlick on my right side, but one major difference that would throw most people off is my right eye: it's there. Originally, I had an eye patch, starkly black against the soft colors of my face. It covered my right eye and hid whatever mistake was there from view. As to what deformation it was, I can't remember. I know that it had been there ever since I was a child in that life, although I can't recall for what reason, simply that I've wore it up until I died at around age nineteen or twenty. I hate that, because I would like to have all of my memories, like the bookman I used to be.

In the present, however, I'm just Lavi Deak. I'm not a junior Bookman with forty-nine different names, one alias per mission. Deak and Lavi were the last two that that I had taken on. But Lavi was the name that Allen knew me as, and is the name that I bear now. It's who I am, and who I was, through and through.

My grandfather in this life is Bookman Sr., the head historian and history professor here at the college. My father (now deceased) was Bookman Jr., but I didn't want that name; it reminded me too strongly of the heartless position I was in during my previous life. So as soon as I was legally old enough to change my name, I went from being Lavi Bookman to Lavi Deak. It was the best I could come up with, and later, I realized it had been because I used to carry the name Deak for a while, too.

My grandfather's class is the final one I have to take every day. In class, I'm known as I am outside of school: 'incompetent brat'. But in the school setting, he has to be 'Professor Bookman'. Stupid, right? He has double standards, saying that he can be familiar with me in school but I can't be familiar with him. It pisses me off sometimes. So, on occasion, I will doodle a smaller version of him with big panda eyes (like I knew him to have in the past), and tape it to his back when he's not looking. It's akin to the childish 'kick me' sign from my middle school days, which is terribly immature, I know. But it's entertaining, so how can I resist?

The bell starts ringing in my ears. Komui dismisses our class with a wide grin. Hmm, I hadn't realized that I'd blown an entire class period reminiscing. Heh, looks like it's time to go meet Linalee! I wonder what she has planned for this year. Her parties are always extravagant, because Komui wants the best for his sister.

As I enter the coffee shop, I spot the little Chinese girl in the corner with a mug of what I can only guess is chai tea in her hands. She turns at the sound of the bells on the door and smiles at me. I wave to her and signal that I'll be with her in a second, after I get myself some coffee.

I choose the Orange Dream latte blend and pay for extra whip cream. I love sweet things, and orange is one of my favorite flavors, as well as colors. I'm even wearing my orange scarf, so similar to the old I used to wear in my previous life, despite the weather being nice today.

"Hullo, my dear," I coo as I come to sit in the booth across from my friend. I slurp some of the whip cream off the top of my drink. "So, what's on the agenda?"

"I was thinking an Old England theme for this year," she says. "I normally don't go for themed birthday parties, but I figured that seventeen was a special age. Plus, I want to invite a lot more people this time around! I met a few that are new to my school. I think you'll like them, Lavi. They have a quirky sense of humor like you do," she giggles. She stirs her tea once before taking another languid sip. "Anyway, would you mind helping me get some invitations typed up? I want everyone to show up in costume; you know, corsets and skirts for the girls, suits and top hats for the guys. Stuff like that."

I almost want to laugh. If she only remembered the time period that I do, she would see the irony. I substitute the laughter for a friendly grin. "Sure, I'll help you. You know, I have quite a bit of knowledge about Old English customs… I could help you set up a miniature London in your back yard, if you like."

"Really? Thanks, Lavi!" she says with a gleeful clap of her hands. "The party is going to be next weekend, so if you could come over tonight to help me write to the invites help me send them out tomorrow, that'd be fantastic. You'll have to give one to Yuu, too," she added with a slight flush. I don't know if it was because of their previous friendship or what, but I think she has a little crush on him.

I wink at her, which luckily she can tell is a wink since I don't have that blasted eye patch like I did in my last life. "Oh, trust me, he'll get one," I say. "After all, everyone wants to see their crush at a party…"

She reaches over the table to smack me. "Shut up, Lavi! I don't like him, I already told you!"

I chuckle and hide my comment of 'Whatever you want to tell yourself,' under a gulp of my orange-flavored coffee.

Linalee pouts and goes quiet as she drinks more of her tea. After a few minutes, she tells me, "You will come over tonight, right?"

"Of 'course," I reply.

Komui's used to having me over, seeing as how I've proved multiple times how uninterested I am in Linalee. When it comes to her brother, you have to be completely solid in your feelings toward her, and if those feelings are anywhere near romantic, you can forget about being her friend because he will kill you if you try to date her. His younger sister complex is an incredibly severe case. But I respect it, so every time I come over I keep my distance from her. I like Linalee, but I'm still in love with Allen, so Komui has nothing to worry about.

She smiles. "Thanks again, Lavi. You're a good friend."

I make a small bow. "That I am, and you better not forget it."

The Chinese girl laughs. "I won't. Oh! Speaking of friends, there's a new guy at my school – one of the people I said I wanted to invite – who's a year younger than me, and utterly sweet. I want you to meet him. I think I'll introduce you to him at my party."

I shrug. "Sure, whatever." I don't care if she has a new friend, but I'll be happy to meet this guy, whoever he is. Meeting new people is fine with me; I'm a very friendly person. As my high school Spanish teacher would phrase it, _yo soy muy sociable._ I am social, even if sometimes I feel obscured form the picture around me. There are moment when I don't feel like I belong here. I feel like I should be back in the nineteenth century, fighting off Akuma and searching for a way to destroy the Earl.

"…Although he is a bit of a rebel; he has a tattoo," Linalee is saying. I didn't even realize that she had been talking.

"Hmm?" I hum. "Sorry, I went into a daze for a minute there."

She rolls her eyes. "You do that too often. Please, could you listen for a minute? I want you to know a little bit about him before I introduce you. Now, first of all, he's being looked after by his uncle, meaning his parents are deceased; like yours, which is why I think you two might understand each other. But I'm going to warn you: he looks like a rebel. He has this weird tattoo on his face, and he dresses in quite a lot of black and white. But he's a sweetheart underneath; he's super polite and very thoughtful of others."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," I muse aloud as I raise my coffee to my lips. I like polite, thoughtful people; they remind me of 'the good old days'. I know, I've thought about my first like a lot today, but for some reason, everything around me if reminding me of it.

She grins. "I thought so. But, uh, I kinda like him too, so don't hog him to yourself," she teases.

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you being serious?"

She sighs. "No. You can always tell when I'm even remotely lying or joking, can't you? I can never pull the wool over clever Lavi Deak's eyes," Linalee laments.

I smirk broadly. "You got that right." I finish off my coffee. "Hey, I gotta run now. Gramps' class is next. I'll see you after dinner, alright? Around six-thirty or so, okay?"

"Okay," she replies as she, too, finishes off her drink. She stands and briefly hugs me. "Bye, Lavi."

"G'bye," I murmur as I halfheartedly return the embrace.

And then I'm out the door and headed for my dorm room to collect my history textbook, notebook, and binder.

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**Next chapter:**

_[2]  
.Where The Beginning Lies._


	2. Where The Beginning Lies

**A/N: Sorry about the overload of info in the first chapter. This one is much better; it's mainly events. :D**

**Special thanks to _Bre_, an anonymous reviewer, and _ritachi_, a kind critic, for their support; their reviews helped me a lot. Although I still love the rest of you, so please keep leaving your throughts~! **

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_[2]  
.Where The Beginning Lies._

It took a lot of persuading before I could get Kanda to accept the invitation. He didn't give any indication that he'd actually go to the party.

One of the names on an invite chilled my bones, however. It read quite clearly in Linalee's handwriting, _Tyki Mikk._ Now, why was that guy on the list? How did she even know him, anyhow? And how come I never noticed that he goes to the same university that I do? It disturbs me to no end, but I have to remember that he's not the Noah he used to be. In this life, he's a normal human like the rest of us, even if his skin is a similar ashy caramel color.

When I finally find him, a smile blossoms on his lips. "Hello," he says. "You must be Lavi Deak. Miss Lee said that you'd be the one to hand me my invite."

I blink hard at him. He looks frighteningly the same… even Linalee and Kanda have a few differences among their facial features or their hair styles to fit the times, and of 'course their clothes are nothing like what they sued to wear, but this man, Tyki… he's a college senior, and his hair and face is very much the same. Even his clothes are stylish and classy like the ones I knew him to wear. The only thing missing is the line of crosses along his forehead, which has wavy dark hair covering it.

"Yeah…" I say weakly. I hold up the envelope. "Here."

"Thank you," he says as he takes it from my hand and gives me a mini salute with two of his fingers. "Ta-ta."

I stand still for a few breathless moments, a memory sweeping over me.

_Tyki, scarred, long-haired, and almost insane-looking, standing beside a scarred Rhode. She was smiling, and he was twitching. He reached out his hands, as if he wanted to tear out every organ in the bodies of all the Exorcists around him. He inched closer, Rhode clinging to his leg and laughing. "I'm going to get you," he hissed. "It's payback time, Allen Walker…"_

_I saw the confusion and hallucination in his eyes, and saw the oddly dead expression in Rhode's, despite her contorted laughter. "Allen, love… you better run, or else Tyki might ell you before you even reach Earl-sama."_

_I looked between them, then at Allen, and could see the anger on his face. His jacket billowed open to show the long vertical, scar running down it. Tyki noticed, and seemed to grin wider. "Did someone try to kill you, Allen? You look as thought someone took your own sword and stabbed it through you, like you did to me in the Ark."_

_Panting, I ran ahead of Allen and stood between them. "Don't you dare take another step closer!" I growled, my hammer poised behind me for an easy forward swing. "If you touch him, I'll kill you!" Tyki already wounded Allen once; the image of Linalee and I finding the Ace of Spades beside where Allen had been came to mind. I shook it away and scowled._

_The Noahs cackled together. "Dying isn't the scariest thing for us," they chanted together. _

_Rhode jerked her chin upwards. "But I wonder… is it the scariest thing for you?"_

A shiver trials down my spine. Man, I don't like having this memories pop up all the time. Especially not those of the last few moments in my life. I have to keep in mind that it is the twenty-first century now, where everyone is alive and sane and no longer part of the supernatural. There are no demons or devils lurking around here any longer.

Self-assured, I continue walking and handing out the last of Linalee's invites to her college-aged friends. Her birthday party will be in five days, and I can't wait. I dislike college frat parties, and always get rejected from raves because my fake ID isn't believable enough. So it'll be nice to go somewhere and do something, like drink and chat and meet unfamiliar individuals.

"Hey, Lavi!" a high-pitched male voice calls from behind me.

I turn around to face Johnny, another person I knew from the days in the Order. His large circular glasses casting a white reflection in the sunlight. I smile a little. "Hi, Johnny. What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm just heading to my next class." He adjusts his glasses. "What cha got there?"

"Oh, these?" I say. "Well, these are invites for Linalee's upcoming birthday party. Actually, I think there's one here for you…" I add as I start shifting through them.

"Really? Awesome!" he says in that chipper tone of his. "I love Linalee's parties. She has the best cakes."

I chuckle as I hand him the invite with his name on it. "Is cake the only thing you like?"

He flushes slightly. Johnny's easily embarrassed. "I didn't mean it like that! I like other stuff there, too."

I shake my head at him. "I know, man. I was just messing with you."

He laughs weakly. "Oh, right." He glances at his watch. "Crud! I'm going to be late! Thanks for the invite, Lavi. Tell Linalee that I'll be coming, okay?"

"Tell her yourself!" I yell after him, one hand cupped to the side of my mouth. "There's an RSVP number in there!"

He doesn't give any indication that he heard me, but I'm sure he did. With that goofy encounter over with, I walk around campus for a while. I have one invite left on me, made out to my English teacher of all people. I guess, despite being about eight years older than the Chinese girl, Miss Lotto and Linalee are like sisters. They act like it, anyhow. Still, it's weird to me: a young teacher going to a high school girl's birthday party? Oh, but I forget: they've known each other in this life since Linalee was twelve years old. Miranda's a friend of the family, namely the daughter of Linalee's mother's friend. I know, it sounds a little confusing, but it happens, right?

As I walk, I lace my hands behind my head and stare up at the clouds. They are a heavy, dismal grey today, threatening thunderstorms for tonight. I like thunderstorms, though. If not terribly loud and booming, they help me sleep. The sound of rain reminds me of peaceful, cleansing times, and the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder are like indirect ways of releasing tension inside of me. If there wasn't the possibility of pneumonia and hypothermia, I would stand out in the cooling rain every time there was a storm. And yes, I am aware of how odd that sounds. Pardon me for loving the weather.

I come to Miranda's classroom, and luckily she's inside with no students. I knock politely. "Miss Lotto, I have something for you."

"Oh! Come in," she says in a surprised tone.

I turn the brass knob and stroll into her classroom. I offer a meaningless smile and wave Linalee's invite. "Hey. Linalee wanted me to give you this… it's an invite to her seventeenth birthday party," I inform her as I hand her the envelope.

A warm smile touches her lips and dark insomniac eyes. "How thoughtful of her. I just hope I won't be a burden…"

I touch her arm. "You won't be, teach. Linalee loves you, and really wants you to be there."

Miranda smiles in that shy way she does. "Thanks, Mr. Deak."

"It's Lavi," I remind her. "You said you'd call me by my first name outside of school." I do this with all the older people around me that used to be part of the Order: I try to get them to remember pieces of that life by making them as familiar with the reincarnated me as they can.

She nods absentmindedly. "Sorry. Thank you, Lavi."

I shrug as I shove my hands in my pockets. "No need to thank me, I'm just the messenger boy." I glance around the room, my eyes landing on a chain leading into the pocket of Miranda's skirt. "What's that?"

She looks down. "This?" she inquires as she lifts the chain. A pocket watch slips out of her pocket. "It's a watch my father had before he… before he passed away." She sniffles. "He was always fascinated with clocks; grandfather clocks, pocket watches, wristwatches, you name it. And I guess his fascination moved on to me."

Or it's a fascination you're remembering, I want to say. I want to tell her how she used to use her Innocence as a time record. I want to mention how Allen first met her, when she nearly went mad due to the repetitive spell cast around her to live the same day over and over again. I want to, but I know I can't. If she doesn't remember it herself, then she might think that I'm crazy.

"Well then," she says as she places the watch back in her pocket, "I think it's almost time for my next class. I hope you don't mind…"

I shake my head. "Nah, it's alright. I need to go anyway. I'll see you around, teach."

As I'm leaving, I hear her mumble softly, "Have a good day, Lavi."

o0-0o

To the eyes of others, I have a really shitty car. The CD player I put in it is broken, the breaks need to be pushed twice as hard as normal breaks, the paint job is getting faded, and the back fender has a dent in it.

And yet I adore this old hunk of junk.

She lasted me all through high school since my sophomore year when I first turned sixteen, and she hasn't died on me yet. The old broad's engine practically purrs under the hood, and never stalls or chokes smoke out of the tailpipe. It constantly ignites right when my keys turn, unlike what most old cars do. The heater in it keeps me nice and cozy warm in the winter. The air conditioning is like a freezer, keeping me icy cool in the summer. Who can complain about that?

Sure, this baby might be an ancient 1964 truck, but I love her. She's a rusty orange-red color, although I'm thinking of repainting her to a nice lime green. The hub is an odd square shape, and the front end is almost as long as the pick-up trunk in back, but what I love about this is the option I have of putting huge-ass tires on it. The tires make my car feel taller than it is, and makes it look like a dirty old monster truck.

It's freaking _awesome,_ and no one can tell me otherwise.

The reason why I'm mentioning this is because I'm starting to feel a little small compared to the flashy new cars building up around me as I pull over in front of Linalee's house. The week flew by fast; it's already the day of her party, and she asked me to come a little bit earlier to help set up. 'A few of my relatives will be there,' she told me, 'But none of the other guests will be there yet.'

So here I am with my crappy (but lovable) car beside to a load of shiny Honda, Nissan, and Toyota vehicles from 2006, 2007, 2008, and 2009. It makes my forty-plus year old truck feel a tad too outdated.

"It's okay girl," I say as I slam the driver's side door shut and pat it, "You're still golden to me. Don't let these mass-produced toys bother you."

Satisfied that my truck was confident again (as if it had feelings), I march up to Linalee's door and ring the doorbell. I hear shuffling around, a mewling cat, music and voices from inside. Then Linalee pops up, the door swinging open to reveal her hair in high, curly pigtails with a lengthy, lacy dress hanging off her frame. "Lavi!" she squeals as he leans forward to give me a hug in greeting. She yanks me inside by my arm and shuts the door behind me. "You're just in time to help Miranda and I set up our mini version of Big Ben."

"You have a clock that looks like Big Ben?" I ask as she strings me through a crowd of family members and into the back yard.

"Not quite," she giggles. "It's just a plywood cutout painted by that friend I mentioned; you know, the one with the tattoo? He's really talented."

"Is he now?" I reply vaguely as I take in the scene around me. It's amazing what she did with her backyard, actually. It almost looks like a small adaptation of London, England. There is a plywood cityscape, minus Big Ben, lining her fence. She already has a cobblestone path leading to her garden, but the way she set this all up it appears as though it's an old cobblestone street. I start to laugh when I notice a horse-and-buggy setup meant for picture taking, the heads of the horses, driver, and two people in back left open for others to stick their heads through. I point to it and ask, "Can we all get a picture with that later?"

Linalee smiles. "I knew you'd like that! It's dorky, I know, but I thought it was clever."

"It is pretty clever," I agree as we approach Big Ben.

"He's too heavy to stand on his own," Linalee sighs, "So we need someone to stand on a ladder and help hang him from our oak tree."

"He?" I ask with a raise of my eyebrow.

"Well, his name_ is_ Ben," she winks. "Anyway, Miranda and I can't seem to get it, and Brother is out buying some last-minute snack foods, so could you help us?"

"Sure," I shrug. I climb up the step ladder as Miranda hands me the rope. It's looped through the tip of Ben's tower, a foot or so away from the yellow clock face, which I realize is made of tissue paper with a flashlight taped behind it to make it light up. I grunt as I hoist the fake clock up and wrap it securely around a thick tree limb. As I'm tying it off, Linalee cocks her head and motions for me to tighten one end. At this angle, I hadn't even noticed how crooked it is. But it should be fine now. I send Linalee a questioning look, and she merely smiles. Getting down from the ladder, I wipe my brow. "Anything else, Birthday Girl?"

"Nope," she says. "All that's left is to plug in the twinkle lights we put inside the painted windows to make it look like an old city at night. Oh! But you could go around and light the torches inside the glass. See, on either side of the path, all those torches? They're supposed to be gas-lit streetlamps."

"I'd be happy to," I grin. I'm admittedly a bit of a pyromaniac; I blame my_ hiban_ attack from the good old days.

With a box of matches I go around and light up all the torches, being careful not to burn myself. The glow they give off is subtle and already makes the backyard scene give the illusion that you're being sent back in time. I look around, wondering vaguely if any memories might be triggered tonight, if my friends even have them like I do. Sometimes I wonder if they've completely forgotten…

"Lavi," Miranda's voice calls. I turn around to find her coming towards me, her black, button-up two-piece dress resembling her old self. "Komui is back, and says he needs you."

"Must I do everything around here?" I joke. I nod to my college professor (although she's not much of one in this atmosphere) and go inside the house in search of the mad scientist. I spot him in the kitchen, bowls and platters and food scattered everywhere. Forcing down laughter, I ask, "Need some help?"

"Yes please," he whines. A bowl teeters off his arm, and I dive forward to catch it. It nearly hits the floor before I'm able to grab it. "Nice catch," Komui remarks. "Now could you help me set this up? I'm at a bit of a loss…"

Chuckling, I begin taking things from him and dumping it out in bowls or laying it out on plates, everything from cheese and crackers to chips and dip to crumpets. It's an odd mix of modern American foods and traditional English foods. I'm about to question why the variety at a themed party, when I remember who is being invited: high school kids, the kind that like Doritos and Mountain Dew as opposed to crumpets and tea. Everything must be accounted for, since this is a party, theme or no theme.

Within an hour, students of just about every age between high school and college start to pile into the house and out into the backyard. I never knew Linalee was such a popular gal!

But then again, she is a sweetheart so long as she has her friends around her. She's emotional (slightly more-so than your average teenaged girl) and sympathetic, so she's able to relate to a lot of people. Plus, she's in various clubs and a couple sports, namely volleyball and track with drama club on the side, hence every person she knows from those three things are present. Because of Kanda and me from her middle school days, she also knows quite a few college students nowadays.

Yeah, so maybe the vast number of people isn't so surprising once I dissect the situation. But I have to say, I'm not very comfortable with it; I only know a handful of people, so with everyone else, I have to fake a smile and act as polite as I can.

The music is pumping throughout the entire expanse of the Lee abode, the sound making my ears ring lightly. The bass can be felt directly in the core of my bones, but I don't quite mind it. It feels like a second heartbeat, as if it's natural. I'm a sucker for music; I have at least five thousand songs on my MP3 player, and I like to dance. Mind you, I'm not the best dancer, and I don't always let loose when there are this many people around, but I can at least bop my head and tap my feet as I haul my drink through the crowd in search of a friend or two.

Poor Miranda looks lonely in the corner of the room, like a delicate black wallflower. I'd go cheer her up, but it might be awkward for her. After all, she's seven years older than me, and is my teacher in this life. So I keep flitting about, looking for Kanda to pester. I wish calling him 'Yuu' would annoy him as much as it did in the past. But since we're in America now, and he grew up here despite being completely Japanese, being called by his first name isn't as disrespectful. But maybe if I start calling him by his last name like I do in my head, he might get annoyed…

Ah, and there he is now. I can see his long black ponytail, hanging low and old-fashioned down his back. It looks practically navy blue in the lighting of Linalee's living room. I sneak up behind him and tap his shoulder on the left as I stand on his right. He looks one way, sees solely my hand, then with a roll of his eyes looks the other way. His eyes dig into mine and I smile weakly. "Hiya, Kanda."

"Buzz off," he retorts with a scowl. "And why are you calling me by my last name?"

"I feel like it!" I reply as I start to maneuver to face him. "And anyway, what do you care what I call you?"

He clicks his tongue. "Che. You're weird."

"And you're a cold bastard, but you don't hear me shoving it in your face," I chuckle as someone bumps me. Jeez, it's really crowded in here! "So, have you seen Lina around here?"

"Try the backyard," he grunts as he turns away.

"Thanks, Kanda!" I shout over the music, but he's a good six feet away, now. No matter, at least I know where to start looking for the Chinese hostess of this shindig.

I stumble out onto the back porch, my high black riding boots getting scuffed on the cement. Tch, I'll have to polish that out, now. I borrowed these boots from Johnny (who has them for whatever bizarre reason; maybe he rides horses?), and I want to be able to give them back in okay condition. The tails of my tan suit get caught in the patio door for a second. Once I'm free, I survey the decorated lawn in front of me.

The music is softer out here, and so is the lighting. The sun is almost entirely under the horizon, the dimness of dusk lighting the sky with gentle blues and purples. There aren't many clouds, even though the earlier half of the week was nothing but thunderstorms. I was pleased to have the storms, but I'm glad that it's clear the night of Linalee's party.

While weaving in and out of people dancing together or munching on snacks, I come across Bak in my line of sight. Now, what's he doing here? Surely Komui would never let him anywhere near Linalee, what with his obsession with her…

"Psst, Lavi!" he hisses at me. Puzzled, I walk over to him. He's hiding behind Big Ben. "Can you put my present and these flowers on the table over there?" he requests.

I take the parcel and bouquet, but can't help to be suspicious. "And why can you do it?"

"Uh, I'm kind of not supposed to be here," he replies sheepishly. "Komui tore my invite to shreds right in front of me, a creepy grin on his face. The guy hates me."

"Nah, he's just being overprotective of his sister, that's all," I say to make him feel better. But for all I know, Komui could hate him.

Bak continues talking as if I hadn't spoken. He glances at something over my shoulder. "Besides, if I get too close to Linalee, I'll probably break out in hives. I'm so nervous around her. So I was hoping someone could give her my presents and then I could leave."

I sigh as lay the bouquet on my shoulder. "I'll be your postman, then, Bak. I'll deliver the young lady your regards."

He smiles brightly. "Thanks, Lavi. You're a heart-saver."

I cock an eyebrow. "Heart-saver? Don't you mean lifesaver?"

He winks. "But it's not my life you're saving, now, is it? Anyway, I gotta go. Komui's on the prowl." And with that he's gone, hopping over the fence and walking down the sidewalk on the other side (Linalee lives near a back road that leads into town).

Shrugging to myself, I head over to the table Bak pointed to and lay the gifts down. An extravagant tag is stuck on both, his name in big letters between the words 'from' and 'with love'. "Heh, what a goof," I smile as I shake my head. I turn away from the table stocked with presents and continue my look around. Where's Linalee? I feel stupid wandering around looking for her, as if I'm some lost child seeking his mommy-dearest. But who else do I know here? It's not like the Order, when I memorized every name and face and recorded them. Nowadays, everyone is a stranger to me.

Suddenly, my ears perk at the sound of a dry crack, like a piece of crusty bread being snapped in half. I whirl around and immediately my eyes are drawn to the thick rope holding up the wooden Big Ben. It's come loose, and is going to fall at any minute. I was just over there; how could I not notice?

I duck around bodies as I make my way over to the flashlight-lit glowing clock face. There's two people standing beneath it. One is Johnny and the other has their back to me, so I can't make out who they are. The person who's faced away from me is the one standing directly below the dangerously perched Ben replica. The rope unwinds like straw twine, and is getting so close to breaking. I dive forward, aiming to rescue the individual underneath. "Look out!" I shout.

I crash into the smaller body (most likely some high school kid) and cover their head as the plywood smashes to the grass and splinters on a few of the cobblestones nearby. A couple partygoers scream, and one or two come forward asking if I'm alright.

Panting, I shift my weight and look down at the person I just saved. But looking into their eyes, I freeze in place, my heart nearly stopping.

Below me, there's a boy with light brown hair and blue-grey eyes, a dark red gash in the shape of a pentacle and lightning bolt running down the left side of his face. His jaw line is narrower than mine, nearly like a girl's, and his cheekbones are low and softly blend into his face.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say this brown-haired boy was Allen.

_My_ Allen.

A wave of shock, love, and nostalgia floods through me as I slowly sit up and block out the voices around me. My vision blurs, and I feel nauseatingly dizzy. "Allen?" I whisper.

This can't be happening. It's has to be a delusion of some kind. I've already made up my mind long ago that I'd keep a sliver of hope that Allen was in this life somewhere nearby, but I told myself that it was impossible. I told myself repeatedly that I could dream of him, but won't wait for him since he might not have been reincarnated. I even got my first kiss in that shitty car of mine during my junior year of high school because I figured that I would never meet him. And yet…

"Lavi!" a feminine voice cries behind me. Numbly, I turn my head to look at her. For a full minute there, during my racing thoughts, Allen had not looked away from my eyes and I hadn't parted with his. Now that I'm peering into Linalee's eyes, the sounds are returning and the blurred edges are receding. "Lavi, what happened?! Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I say flatly, the shock wearing away as I rub my temples with my eyes closed. "I'm fine." I lift my head and drop my hands into my lap. "I just saved this guy from being squashed by Ben over there," I inform her as I point a thumb in the plywood's direction.

She crouches down beside the boy and tilts her head. "Are you okay, too?"

He nods and runs a hand through his hair, which is so similar to the shaggy style my Allen used to wear.

Smiling, Linalee helps him to his feet. I stand as well and face them. She looks to me and says, "Funny that you tow should meet this way; I was going to introduce you later when we had cake, but I guess now's as good a time as any," she's saying.

It's then that the mark on his face clicks with the tattoo Linalee mentioned over coffee. This has to be the boy she was talking about, the new guy at her school this year. I stare at him a moment, trying to decide if I should say anything.

Linalee does this for me. She forces our hands together so that we can shake them. "Lavi, I'd like you to meet Allen Walker. Allen, meet Lavi Deak. I hope you two will be friends, since I'm friends with both of you."

A grin erupts on my face as Allen breaks our handshake and scratches his cheek. "Well, I guess I'll have to be, seeing a show he just saved me the trouble of getting a concussion."

It really is Allen, _my _Allen. His hair is a different color and I can't begin to guess why he still has the same mark as a tattoo, but his voice and name and eyes are all the same, and that's what matters.

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[3]  
.Push for the Memorable._


	3. Push for the Memorable

**A/N: Sorry for being kinda late, people... I swear I didn't do it on purpose. But here's another chapter, so I suppose you can be content now. ;D**

* * *

_[3]  
.Push for the Memorable._

"Hey, can I get you something to drink?" I ask as I tag along beside Allen. Like he usually would have done, he's currently pretending to ignore me as I ramble on and on. "Personally, I feel like a Dr. Pepper. What about you? I could get you one, if you like."

He glances sideways at me. "Look, if you think you have to make it up to me for shoving me to the ground, you don't. I'm fine, see?"

"Yeah, but…" I say lamely, "I still want to make sure, ya know? Besides, I bet you're thirsty. Or maybe you're hungry? I could get you something to eat." The Allen I knew could never pass up food. I was made fun of for it, but when we were on the Ark in our past life I called out to him using 'dinner' and food dish names as a lure. Surely some of that appetite passed on into this life.

"Actually, I could go for some food," Allen says thoughtfully. He smiles a bit. "How'd you know?"

I wink at him. "I'm good at guessing these things." _When it comes to you,_ I add mentally. I shudder to think how he might react if I said it aloud. He would probably think I was a stalker of some sort. "I'll be right back," I tell him. I rush off towards the kitchen.

Now, let's see… anything will do, right? I mean, this is Allen I'm talking about. The kid will eat anything set in front of him.

When I return with a paper plate stacked with two large slices of pizza on top, Allen is leaning back on one of the benches Linalee set up. The sky is darker now, the main source of light in the yard emitting from the faux streetlamps and twinkling Christmas lights in the painted windows of the background. Big Ben was hauled away, it seems, and now there is a gap in the London scenery.

I snatch two cans of soda from Johnny, who is talking by with about five of them in his arms. I don't know who or what they are for, but they're mine and Allen's now. The spectacled boy yells something at me, but I don't catch it; my sole focus is on the younger boy ahead of me.

"Here you go," I say as I plop down on the bench. "Two pizza slices and a…" I turn the can over to read the label. "Ginger ale." I chuckle. "Well, at least the pizza won't upset your stomach, since the ginger will balance it out."

"Thanks," Allen remarks as he takes both from me. He tears into the pizza as I pop the seal on my own can of soda, which happens to be a Pepsi. I would have liked a Dr. Pepper better, but while stealing random cans out of someone's arms you're not guaranteed to get your favorites. "So," Allen mumbles around a mouthful of pizza, "How do you know Linalee?"

I lean back with my soda between my legs as I prop my arms up on the back of the bench. "She's been a friend of mine since we were in middle school. We met when the Language Arts teacher forced us to give a little intro speech about one another on the second day of school." I lift my soda and slug a bit of it down. "According to her, you're a new student this year, and that's how she knows you."

He nods. "Yeah. My uncle, Cross Marian, moves around a lot because of his job. He's a general in the army, so he gets stationed all across the U.S."

"Does that bother you?" I wonder. I've meant to ask Allen in our past life about the traveling Cross made him do before he joined the Black Order. I guess the same principle applies here.

He stares at me for a moment. He swallows a lump of pizza and pulls a face. "No one's ever asked me that before. But I'd have to say… Yes, it does bother me to jump place to place." He adjusts his seating and takes a gulp of ginger ale to wash down his food. "Although he says this is the last move I'll ever have to do, since he's not scheduled for another change until I'm in college, and by then I'll be living on my own."

That works for me. I would hate it if he had to leave within a year of finally being reunited with me; er, well, sort of. It's not truly a reunion unless he remembers that we were together in the first place. And based on how he's acting around me, he doesn't. But I'm sure I can trigger some sort of spark in him… I have to try and push for the memorable, in case there is a at least a scrap of memory buried within him, lost in the recesses of his mind.

Allen slurps his can of soda again as he looks out at the partygoers. He smiles halfheartedly. "Those people sure are crazy dancers, huh?" he comments as he points to two girls and a guy rocking out on the cobblestone path. The music is coming from a speaker stationed above the patio door, most likely set up by Komui. The man has a way with technology.

I laugh. "Yeah, they sure are." I look over at him. "Want to join them?"

He inhales his soda too quickly at the question and starts coughing. "Wh-what?"

"Let's dance," I say simply. I know it's fast, and he barely knows me, but I've been waiting damn near five years to see him again. Since I was thirteen, he's been nothing but a fantasy. Now that he's a solid human being in front of me, I want to spend as much time with him as possible.

He blinks at me, his mouth open slightly. Then, his lips draw together into a smirk. "Are you hitting on me?"

I can't deny that I am. I only pray that this Allen is either gay or undecided, because that will make things a hell of a lot easier for me. I need him to be by my side once more. I need be able to love him again. "Am I that obvious?" I retort casually.

He laughs. "Yes, you are." He raises his ginger ale to his lips. "I can't dance, though, so you're out of luck."

"Not entirely," I insist with a mischievous glint in my eyes. "I could always force you to dance."

A frown falls over his brows. "No way. You're not forcing me into anything, you stupid rabbit."

I blink in astonishment. Wait, did he call me what I think he called me?

Allen seems astonished, too. I can see the confusion in his eyes, as if he's asking, 'Why did I call you that?' But he's soon dismissing the slip up, obviously shrugging it off because it doesn't make any sense. With a turn of his head, he suggests awkwardly, "I think they're going to do cake and presents soon. Maybe we should head inside."

I sigh as a manner of agreeing as I chug the remainder of my pop and toss the empty can into a nearby garbage bin. I stand and follow him. I wonder what he's thinking at the moment, or what he's feeling. He already called me a 'stupid rabbit'… maybe if I call him a bean sprout, he might remember something.

It's worth a shot.

"Hey, wait up, bean sprout!" I call to Allen. He doesn't hear me. I race ahead, ramming into someone and apologizing as I reach out for the sleeve of his English-styled costume. "Oi, bean sprout! I'm talking to you!"

I get a grip on his sleeve just as he spins around to face me. "My name is Allen!" he snaps, and I couldn't be more overjoyed as a flash of recognition touches his eyes.

"Doesn't that sound familiar?" I smile brightly, my tone low. I don't know if he hears me say this. Unfortunately for me, the second I'm about to find out, Allen is cut off by Komui's booming voice. I mentally curse the man for his perfect timing for the wrong moment. Something tells me that Linalee feels the same way about her brother at times.

"Attention, everyone! It's time to sing 'happy birthday' to my lovely little Lina! So gather 'round the kitchen as best as you can and start singing at the count of three!"

Lamely, the collective group waits for the countdown from the man of the house. When he hits 'one', they all cry out:

_Happy birthday to you, (cha cha cha)_

_Happy birthday to you! (cha cha cha)_

_Happy birthday dear Linalee,_

_Happy birthday to you!_

…_And many more…_

When that's done (jeez, what a tiresome song), there's a line forming to get one of the four cakes and three tubs of ice cream that Komui has placed along the kitchen counters. There's also a mad rush for Linalee's gifts, a crowd huddling around her on the loveseat in the living room. She's flushing and barking orders at the same time, both embarrassed and trying to get control of her guests. They're shoving boxes in her face, whining that theirs should be opened first. I notice that Bak's poor present is at the bottom of the pile, the flowers mysteriously gone, yet the tag for them is lying on the ground.

Meanwhile, I'm worming my way up to Allen by rudely cutting ahead of people. I'm probably coming on too strong for the first time that I've met him, but…

I sigh aloud. No, I _am_ coming on too strong. I don't want to scare him away! I better ease up. It's hard, because if anything, my love for him flared up tenfold the second I comprehended that (_this is the reincarnate of Allen Walker, my past lover Allen Walker, the only one for me Allen Walker…)_ he's the one I've been looking for.

Love is a funny thing, since it never truly dies or fades, and can even cross lifetimes. That's what mine did, despite it's opening circumstances the first time around. But I have to remember: there are new circumstances now, and I have to treat them with care. I can't do this hastily; it could go one of two ways, either bringing Allen and I closer sooner or tearing us farther apart quicker. It's better to be safe than sorry, so I'll move slowly. I think I would cry if I ended up scaring him away. That would suck. A lot.

With this in mind, I return to my place in the back of the line and cradle my paper plate to my chest like a shield over my heart. All of a sudden, I feel like everything around me is a little too overwhelming… maybe I should go home after cake and presents. A lot of dreams I never expected to happen just came true, and it's left my head reeling.

Yeah, I think I will leave early. But before I go… I'm going to see if I can mooch Allen's phone number from Linalee (or him, if I play my cards correctly). I have to be able to stay in contact with him, don't I?

Oh my God. The wording I used! It gives me an idea: what if I challenge him to cards? The old Allen loved playing cards. And if I win, I could get his phone number, or even a date! I dunno if I can beat him, since he always cheated back in the day, but if I pick an appropriate game, I think I might have a chance at winning.

Forget going home early. This new plan is a lot better, because as overwhelming as this all is, I know I can handle a simple card game.

o0-0o

Okay, 'simple' my ass. It's hard trying to locate Allen, let alone ask him to play cards. At this rate, I'll be searching for him until midnight. It'd be easier if he still had his snowy white hair; with hair like that, I could always find him in a crowd if I needed to, if there weren't too many short, older gentlemen in the room. Because if there were, I often got more confused.

"Allen!" I yell repeatedly, trying to be heard over the vocal and musical commotion. "Allen!"

"I'm right here. Why do you keep calling for me, anyway?" a voice behind me says.

I spin around, a bright grin spreading on my face. "Ah, there you are! I finally found you."

"Actually,_ I _found _you,_" he corrects around a bite of cake. He jabs his fork at me. "And I don't even know why, either. It's like I'm drawn to you for conatus reasons I can't explain. But I could be confusing those reasons with your flamboyantly red hair."

He has a dry, witty smile on his face, so vastly similar to the tricky mood I could squeeze out of him once in a while in the past, before all the extremely horrendous events occurred. Out of habit from whenever someone mentions my unruly hair, I run a hand through it. "You got a problem with my hair, bean sprout?"

"I told you, my name is Allen!" he snaps. "And no, I don't have a problem with you hair. It's just… unusual. But I guess that suits you." He chomps on another bite of cake, full of frosting. Some of it clings to his upper lip, and it takes every last ounce of self control I have not to lean in and lick it off like I used to. It was a good way to get him flustered, back then: use his messy eating against him.

"Suits me, really?" I reply, hoping that's a sign that he remembers something. The fact that he had a conatus – in other words, a natural impulse – to come near shows that at least his body at the very least remembers me. Hmm, that sounds lightly sexual. Oops; I didn't mean it that way.

"Yeah," he says as he licks his lip of frosting, "Because you're so unusual."

I have no idea whether or not to be offended. I'll shake off the remark for now. "So," I begin as I stuff my hands in my pockets, "I was wondering if you wanted to play a round of cards with me."

He raises an eyebrow. "Cards?"

"Yep. This is a party, right? So where are the games? Plus, I was, uh, told that you liked to play," I say cautiously. Please, please let my bluff be true; let the card playing trait be somewhere in the new Allen…

A black grin covers his mouth. Black in aura, like the cheating Allen I knew. "You were told right," he tells me. "I'm warning you, though: I play a wicked hand of cards."

I laugh. "I don't doubt that," I say. He gives me the start of a weird look, so I hastily add, "Linalee said you did." I actually have no idea if she's ever seen him play, or if she's heard of his sneaky ways, but if she has, then I'm in real luck.

Allen tosses his paper plate and fork in a nearby trash can. "Well, she wasn't lying. I just hope you're a worthy opponent."

Boldly, I drape one of my arms over his shoulder and chuckle as I lead him to Komui's poker table in the corner of the room. "Trust me, I am," I reply. I've been brushing up on my Texas Hold 'Em for a while now. I think I'll be somewhat on par with my boyfri– I mean, my soon-to-be boyfriend.

_One step at a time, Lavi,_ I remind myself as we sit down across from one another, Linalee spying what's happening and coming in with a deck for us to use. All her presents are open around her, in a row of electronics and stuffed animals and clothes on the coffee table. _And the first step is to play this game and get your way. But play it safe with your bet and only ask for his phone number; that way, you can always call him and ask him on a date. _

She hands the deck to Allen, whom starts shuffling as fast and dangerous as I remember. He cuts the deck and slides it across to me to deal. "What are we playing?"

"Poker. Texas Hold 'Em style," I answer as I shuffle a bit and begin dealing. "All bets are verbal. Like, you add a little something each time you raise your bet. Let's start with phone numbers."

He leans back and stares at me curiously, a spark of interest in his eye. "So each time I raise a bet, I give you one digit of my phone number, and vice versa?" he clarifies.

I nod. "Exactly. Sound fair?"

He laughs. "You know…" he drawls as he élans back in his chair. He picks up his cards and a combined crowd of Linalee's guests gather around us to observe our game. "You could have asked for my number. You didn't have to trick me into it."

Linalee smiles warmly. I'm sure she's more than ecstatic to have two of her friends getting along so well. Heh, she might not think that if she knew my intentions, or my motive.

I fan out my cards. "But this is more fun," I insist. The crowd '_ooh_'s in the background around us.

And the game begins.

Eyes of onlookers dart back and forth as Allen and I draw cards, place bets, slam cards down, and shuffle to deal over and over again. For a good twenty minutes, we're silent except for our murmured bets and scrawling pens as we scribble down a sort of scorekeeping system, composed of partially completed phone numbers.

After the initial twenty minutes, Allen decides to break the 'silence' between us with a question. "How old are you, Lavi?"

Around a draw, I reply, "Eighteen. I'll be nineteen in a few months, though."

"So… you're in college, then?" he asks casually as he, too, draws. He smirks. "I raise a digit. Five."

I look down at our paper. "Hey, I have your whole phone number now!" Getting back to our conversation, I add, "Yes, I'm in college. What does it matter?" I hope he doesn't have a problem with older guys. But I've always been older than him by three years, which is approximately how much older I am than him at present.

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter," he says, "I was just curious." He pauses. "It's your draw."

"Oh, right," I say lamely. I look at my cards and realize that I don't need to draw. With a crooked smile, I raise the bet at the last minute, giving him the remaining three digits of my own phone number.

"You seem confident," he remarks amusedly.

"You have no idea, Allen," I retort as I lay down my cards flat. The small crowd around us gasps.

"I think he's got you beat, man," some high school guy sitting adjacent to Linalee states.

"Not quite yet he doesn't," Allen says calmly. I hold my breath in anticipation as he reveals his cards. "Because I do believe we said aces were high, right?"

My God. He has a royal flush, all spades including the ace.

"I believe I won this round."

I nod numbly as I stare at the black card in the center of his fan. The Ace of Spades… Tch, that sure brings back horrid memories. Allen temporarily out of the picture, another version of myself in Rhode's illusion, a burnt Allen and my own fearful yell, the melting face of a wet playing card. The sum of these images is enough to make me shudder. When I do, Linalee asks if I'm cold. I wave it away and look over to find Allen shuffling again.

"Shall we keep going?"

I smile at him despite myself. I can't say no to that face. "Yeah, let's."

While we play another round, the crowd slowly diminishes. It's nothing but a formless blur of color and sound around me so long as Allen's here. It's odd, because this incarnate of me doesn't have the detail-memorizing mind like the Bookman incarnate had. I don't search for the minor things like I used to, nor do I care. It's especially draining to even attempt such a feat in this day and age; if I tried to capture, remember, and record every little thing, then my brain would be worn out within a week.

It the past, things happened in steps and phases, in which a mission or enemy would roll in and we'd fight, find answers, and move on. But nowadays it's like a mass of amoeba squirming around in a puddle, action and confusion everywhere. Essentially, it's chaos. There's too much to take in, what with the technologies of cell phones and computers and television sets and the radio. Information is pumped in but unable to be filtered.

Somehow, now that Allen has been added to the scene, it makes for another clog in the filter. It's like I can't focus on anything anymore now that my love had returned to me. That sounds cheesy, but it's true. I'm so eager to spend time with him and be with him again that I can hardly contain myself. But I will, for his sake. For now, I'll simply have to be content with playing cards, making flirtatious bets, and bopping my head in time with the music.

o0-0o

It's no surprise that I lost. But the game lasted so long, that I hardly minded. I think Allen and I really bonded… we chatted over the music as the guests dwindled, and Linalee served us some popcorn and ice cream. We stopped when Kanda came in and said something prior to leaving; his comment, like so many, set Allen off. The two fought a bit – more nostalgia settling in, making me feel oddly at home – and then Allen grunted something about going home. He stormed off after a curt goodbye to Linalee, Komui and me. Kanda was already gone, no goodbyes said at all.

But you know, I like how easy it was so communicate with him, and laugh with him. I missed him so much; I guess I never realized how much until Linalee's party when I was reintroduced to him.

Allen…

I close my eyes and roll onto my other side, a pillow beneath my head and against my back. My bed feels warm, but not quite as cozy as it should be. Memories are flooding through my head, images of intertwined fingers, white hair spilling out over my solidly built chest (I was more fit as an Exorcist than I am currently), and Allen's peacefully sleeping face.

I can't believe some of the things we said to one another tonight. We shared information no normal couple of guys would express, especially not on a first date. If you could call card playing at a birthday party a 'date'. Still, it was weird. Does he think it was weird, too? Did he get any sense of déjà vu? Some of the things we talked about… it reminded me of a few of our conversations from the past. Does he realize that?

I wonder…

What if I tell him? What if I say, 'Allen, you and I used to be lovers in a past life.' Maybe that would fix everything. Or maybe it would make it worse. Something tells me that I should chance it, though. Something tells me that it'll be hard, but possible. I can get him to remember our life together, and by doing so, I can make a new life with him.

Memories used as a foundation for future memories… Time spent to create more time… That sounds like a good plan.

"Ooh-wuah," I hum as I yawn. My brain feels fuzzy. Can you be high off of happiness if you mix it with a caffeine/sugar crash and natural tiredness? I'm thinking that you can. Because I swear that I feel high, even if I've never tried marijuana before, or any other drug for that matter. To me, that shit is a killer of brain cells, even if marijuana is technically as natural as all-tobacco cigarettes. I'll admit to drinking beer, though. That's nasty stuff… the kind I had was cheap and tasted like bubbly vomit. I didn't even get buzzed, yet I puked anyhow. Now, explain _that_ to me!

Hmm. Late night mental rambling. That's got to stop.

"Go to sleep, Lavi," I order myself in a low, rumbling voice.

After recapping more of my night with Allen, it works. I fell my body relax and my mind drift off, my breathing and heart slowing. Then, my consciousness shuts off completely.

* * *

**Next Chapter:**

_[4]  
.Don't Toy With Me._


	4. Don't Toy With Me

**A/N: Yes, I know I'm updating again rather quickly. Which means that this chapter could either be total FAIL (full of filler and typos) or pure WIN (full of fluff and good writing). You can be the judge. X'D**

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* * *

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_[4]  
.Don't Toy With Me._

I wake up to the sound of sharp pecks ticking away at the side of my apartment and against my window. The constant dings pull me out of a rather lovely dream that I regret to say has left me feeling uncomfortable below the waist. With crusty, tired eyes I peek at my clock and glance out the window, both telling me that it's early morning and hailing. Why hail? Why not snow or rain, the softer forms of precipitation? I hope the hail isn't too big; I don't want my poor baby to get dented (and by 'baby', I mean my car).

I force myself to get out of bed and take a shower, in which I calm my lower self from my dreams and mentally begin planning the remainder of the day. I don't have class, and I clearly can't venture outside yet. Maybe a movie day? I could go for some coffee, Cream of Wheat and an Austin Powers flick. It's cozy, funny, and makes for a good day. I think I'll take that option.

As I lather my hair and wash my face, I can't help but wonder what Allen's routine is like in the mornings. I remember how they used to be – going to the bathroom to wash his face, avoiding Link for as long as he can, and wolfing down cafeteria food – but I have no clue what he would do now. Does he check his e-mail every morning? Does he read the paper? Does he eat sugary crap or something healthy for breakfast? Does he shower?

That last thought causes my brain to drift off in dreamy, distant places, of which I have to drag myself out of quickly. I fill my time with drying my body off and stepping out of the shower stall. After a quick tousle of my hair in the towel and a slather of lotion, I'm set to get dressed and truly start my day.

Let's see now… what should I wear? I'm not going to be leaving anytime soon, so why not a pair of lounge pants and a baggy t-shirt? Sounds fine to me.

As I hope into the pants and pull on the shirt, I feel lukewarm droplets of water trickling down the back of my neck and under my collar. Allen used to hate it when I didn't properly dry my hair. He would roll his beautiful stony-blue eyes at me and run out to grab a towel before returning to squeeze the excess water from my hair. No one knew it, but we spent a lot of mornings together after a certain point. We never took showers together, but there were a few times when he'd sit on the toilet seat just outside the shower curtain and talk to me while I bathed, or vice versa.

Thinking back on it after so long, I realize that we were far too close in our past lives, and that could be what turned into our downfall in the end. He was meant to be the Destroyer of Time by prophecy, and I was meant to be a Bookman. But I think we let our personalities and our love for each other rule our lives instead of letting our destinies do their job.

It's a pity that I hadn't thought of this back then.

I sigh as I walk out to the small kitchenette in my apartment and dump my dirty towel in the bathroom along the way. As I'm starting my morning coffee, out of nowhere a sense of emptiness washes over me. This apartment feels… lonely. Quiet. It needs something to fill the void. I would have a pet, but the landlord doesn't allow it. So I'm going to opt that for music.

I walk over to my stereo system in the living room and avoid the cluttered textbooks and miscellaneous novels that I have stacked up next to the couch, where I do most of my reading and studying. Last time I checked, I had a Hoobastank CD in it. It's a tri-CD player, so there are two other CDs inside of it, although I can't remember which ones they are.

Within seconds, 'Born to Lead' begins to play, and the silence evaporates. I smile to myself and head back into the kitchen to start my breakfast.

About fifteen minutes later, the scent of Cream of Wheat is wafting through the air. It tickles my nose, and makes my stomach growl. I hum along with the current song as I stir the milky-colored mixture. I realize that I left the CD player on random, so it skipped to the next CD, which happens to be a Hinder CD. The song 'Shoulda' plays, and I sway with the flow of lyrics.

I'm due for some new music. I wonder what Allen listens to… maybe, the next time I see him, I can ask him. I'll be sure to check out whatever band he names.

I turn off the heat and dump half the contents of the pan into a bowl. While it sits and steams, I get out the brown sugar and butter. Some people like milk on their porridge, or maple syrup. But not me; I'm a simple, classic kind of guy. I like a couple dollops of butter to stir into it and then a sprinkling of moist brown sugar on top. Raw cane sugar will work just as well, if I have it.

The song 'The Jester' from my Sum 41 CD plays as I take my breakfast into the family room. I shut it off within a minute of the song, and flick on my TV. I browse the extended movie channels first before I bother to dig up one of my DVDs. When I don't find anything of interest, I get up, my mouth full of hot mush, and pop a DVD into the player. Austin Powers, like I promised myself. I choose Goldmember out of the three movies I have simply because Fat Bastard never fails to make me laugh my ass off.

o0-0o

I'm about halfway through my movie when the phone rings. I push pause on the remote and reach over for the portable phone on it's stand. It falls into my hand, and upon reading the caller ID I scramble to put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Lavi?" the other voice asks, unsure.

I chuckle. "Of 'course it's me, Linalee. Why do you always think someone else might answer with my number?"

She lets out a breathless laugh. "I don't know. Sorry. Anyway, I called to ask what you were doing today."

I shrug, even though she can't see it. "Nothing much. The hail outside is nasty, so I was just watching a movie. Why d'ya ask, Birthday Girl?" The party was yesterday, but her real birthday is today, so I still get to use the little nickname. Due to her brother's schedule, she had to make the party date the day before her real birthday. It happens.

"Well, I was wondering if you could come with Kanda, Allen and me to the mall."

The second name that she listed catches my attention automatically. I almost choke on my second cup of coffee. "Oh, I definitely can!" I tell her.

"Great! Kanda and I will pick you up in an hour, then. We have to get Allen after that."

I get to see where he lives? Boy, is that lucky. "Sure thing," I reply as I stand up and turn off my movie. I have to go get dressed in more decent clothing. On a whim, I ask, "How did you get Allen to agree to this, anyhow? Unless you didn't notice, Kanda and Allen didn't really get along last night."

Static clouds the receiver as she sighs. "I know. So I kinda lied to him by not mentioning Kanda. I really want him to come with, so…"

"I understand," I say as I tuck the phone to my shoulder and jump into a hair of tight black jeans. Not skinny jeans, mind you; I hate those. They make guys look like girls. It's just that this particular pair happens to be a bit tighter than my usual baggy set of jeans, that's all. "You want all your closest friends with you on your birthday. But what about Miss Lo– I mean, Miranda?"

"Um, she's teaching today."

"Oh."

"Besides, I don't mind it that most of my friends are guys. I know the only one of you three that actually likes shopping is you, Lavi, but it's alright. Kanda won't admit it, but he likes going into the hair salons with me. And Allen loves music and book stores… two of your favorites, I believe," she adds with a giggle.

My lips tug into a grin as I toss off my pajama shirt and pace over to my closet. "You got that right."

"You know," she says lightly, "I saw how drawn you were to him last night. Do you like him, Lavi?"

I hesitate. What should I say to her? I can't reveal the fact that I've been waiting years to see him again, or the fact that I'm already in love with him due to our past. It'd be safe to act aloof. "Sure I do. He's a cool kid. I think we'll be good friends, like you hoped."

I can almost imagine the playfully sarcastic roll of her dark, almost purple eyes. "Let me rephrase that: do you have a crush on him?"

The tone in her voice is on the brink of being envious. What, does she like him, too? I know she did when we were in the Black Order, but could she have fallen for him again in his life?

"Uh… not really, no," I venture meekly. It's not a lie, exactly; I don't have_ just_ a crush on him… I love him.

The pause on the phone makes me think of a raise of one of her arched eyebrows, followed by a shrug. "If you say so," she replies, a smile in her voice. Maybe she's not jealous after all. "Well, I'll leave you to get ready. Bye, Lavi."

"Bye."

She hangs up and I do the same. I toss the phone on my bed and yank a shirt off a hanger. It's a rich purple-red, the kind that doesn't clash with my vibrant hair or green eyes. It has a scrolling pattern of black X's in branches of ivy with a skull down in the corner. I put in two black studs, one in each ear, and look at myself in the mirror.

This is the only remotely punk-ish outfit I have, and somehow, I hate it.

With a frustrated grunt, I throw off the shirt and pants and tear out the studs. Do I have anything else that doesn't make me look like an emo rocker, but still appears sexy?

I feel foolish, like a girl getting ready for her first date as I scan my closet, sliding hanger after hanger along the wooden rod at the top of the small space. The light bulb string dangles in my face, as if the bulb attached to it is mocking me. 'Look at you, fretting over what to wear to impress your lover, even if it's only for a day at the mall.'

"Shut up," I grumble as if I actually heard those words. I click off the light and slam my closet door shut. I wander over to my dresser, which has decidedly less clothes, but enough to choose from. I open the bottommost drawer and rummage through the items inside of it. My hands pass over corduroy, and I pause. Corduroy? When was the last time I wore that? Back in high school? Probably.

I lift the khaki corduroys and unfold them, my eyes scanning their size. Will I even still fit in these? I've gotten taller since high school…

I stand up and slide them over my boxers, finding the corduroy very giving. It hugs my legs just right and buttons up smoothly; there's no zipper, merely three big creamy buttons with tan thread. I nod at them in the mirror. "Alright, these work. But I need a shirt…"

I return to the same drawer and pick out two cotton button-down shirts. One is white with tan thread, and the other is a nicely faded red with cream thread. I try on both, finding that the red one compliments me more, especially if I leave it tucked out (tucked in shirts bug me, anyway).

I'm at a loss for shoes, though. In the end, I go with a pair of flat 80's-styled shoes, the kind that normally have a checkered print on them, although this pair has golden embroidery on it's canvas top in place of the checkered print.

I pick up a cream bandana and fold it over itself to make a band. I tie it around my head as a finishing touch and take one final glance at myself in the mirror. "Not bad, Lavi," I smile at myself. I shove my wallet in my back pocket. "You look a little bit like a cowboy without the boots and hat, but of well. The style is sexy in it's own way."

Satisfied, I walk out to my family room and play more Hinder before Linalee and Kanda show up. By the fourth song, they're buzzing my room. I let them in, and soon there's a knock at my door. "We're here!" I hear Linalee sing-song from behind the wood.

I stroll over to the door and slip out of it. Linalee pours over our day plans as I lock up my home. Kanda stands stoically and waits for me a bit impatiently. When I'm through, he's already flying down the stairs toward the main entrance. Linalee and I lag behind, chatting idly.

"So I was thinking of getting a couple Christmas presents while we're out."

I glance over at her, amusement in my tone even if I'm not laughing. "But Linalee, Christmas is months away!"

"Not really," she corrects. "It's almost October, and then it'll be November, and in no time, Christmas! Sales go quickly, and people get an earlier start every year. I want to get ahead in the game this time around. I don't like running around two weeks before the holidays to get last-minute gifts. And with my recent job as a waitress at that new restaurant, I've been getting plenty of money to save for both college and personal things."

I nod. "Okay, okay, I get ya. I'll help you look, then."

She smiles, mirth glittering in her eyes. "Thanks. That's all I wanted to begin with." Then, she adds lowly so Kanda cant hear us, "Although I might need your help later on. I want to get Allen a birthday present – his birthday is the day before Christmas Eve – and I can't do it while he's around. Yuu won't do it since he doesn't like Allen, so I was wondering if while we're out you could distract him for me? You know, just long enough for me to go to one store."

Originally, Allen didn't have a birthday, but he celebrated it on Christmas since that's when Mana took him in (the word 'celebrated' is being used lightly here). Hearing about this new birth date intrigues me. "Sure, I can distract him. But can you do the same for me? I want to get Allen something, too."

The Chinese girl cocks her head. "Really? How sweet! I'll be happy to."

We put up our umbrellas as we head out into the hail, which (luckily?) has softened to a sleeting rain. Kanda walks ahead of us, his head ducked down into the high collar of his black tweed coat with his hands in the pockets. Poor Linalee is wearing a mini skirt with leggings; she must be freezing.

We hurry across the parking lot to their car and leap inside, our umbrellas shaking off icy water and our breaths coming quickly as we settle down in our seats. Linalee rides shotgun as I pile in the back. Kanda has a nice car; it's a midnight blue Jaguar with black plush interior (not leather, thankfully). I find it funny that his license plate reads 'Mugen 57'.

"Is everyone buckled?" Kanda grumbles from the driver's seat. It's not that he cares about our safety very much; he just doesn't want to get in trouble with the police. Unlike me, he actually tries to keep a perfectly clean street record. Not that I'm a troublemaker or anything; I just don't bother to read every 'no parking zone' or speed limit sign I pass by.

"Yup," Linalee and I pipe up in unison.

Nodding once, the Japanese man puts his car in gear and pulls out of the parking lot.

Linalee reaches for the radio and tunes into a rap station. Annoying hip-hop music plays, and she bounces in her seat. Kanda clicks his tongue, "Che," and I roll my eyes. It's not that bad… but Katy Perry isn't one of my favorites._ At all._

Linalee starts singing along. "You're so gay, and you don't even like boys; no, you don't even like boys…"

At least it's not 'Hot 'N' Cold'. Now there's a song that truly pisses me off! It's played everywhere, and is probably one of the most annoying songs on the planet aside from music by Brittney Spears.

Spotting my bored expression in the rearview mirror, Linalee quickly huts up and hits the 'scan' button on the radio. Hard rock music fills the car at high octaves, enough to make my ears ache. Kanda punches the radio off. "That's enough for the time being," he mutters.

Linalee flushes. "Sorry."

I snort to hold back a chuckle. The way those two interact is pretty hilarious. My gaze falls on the scenery outside, a collection of mini vans, trees, and buildings of all types (minus skyscrapers since we're not in the city) flying by.

It takes about twenty minutes of dead silence to get to Allen's house. "I'll wait in here while you get him," Kanda says to Linalee.

"Okay," she replies. She looks back at me as she unbuckles herself. "Want to come with me, Lavi?"

"Why not?" I reply casually. My heart races up a fraction of a beat as I hastily unbuckle my own seatbelt and climb out of the car. I jog a bit to catch up with Linalee, who's already halfway up the path. She rings the doorbell as I stand beside her. I hear voices, one of them higher and softer than the other. Allen. And the rough, lower voice must be…

"Linalee, my dear," Cross smirks with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he yanks open the door. It seems his affection toward woman hasn't left his personality from his past self.

Behind him, Allen is struggling to push him out of the way. "Get out of the way, Uncle!" he hisses at Cross.

"I am, runt. Stop shoving," the older man replies. His hair is the same reddish pink, and in place of a mask over one eye like the Phantom of the Opera he has a long set of bangs covering his right eye. His hair isn't nearly as long, either, but it looks similar to how I knew him.

"Hi, Linalee," Allen huffs as he succeeds in pushing his uncle out of the way. His eyes pan over to me, and I wave a hand in greeting. Allen blinks once. "He's here, too?"

Linalee smiles. "He's one of my best friends, and you seemed to get along last night, so I thought you wouldn't mind, Al."

Allen shifts his footing. "That's fine, I suppose." In the background, I hear Cross say something. Allen whips his head around and yells, "No, it's not that jerk, Yuu Kanda! It's her other friend!"

I can hear laughter. Cross comes into view once more, a drink in his hands, though I can't tell if it's a dark beer or dark-colored pop. "Then who is he? He's not that lad you were rambling about last night, is he?"

There's visible color on Allen's cheeks. "Forget about it," he shoots back as he steps out onto the porch with us and shuts the front door on his uncle. To Linalee and I, he demands, "Come on, let's get going." He walks briskly between us to the car. The second he sees the driver, however, he stops. "Why is _he_ here?"

I rush down to the car, Linalee following me. "Um, I was going to tell you, Allen…" she puts in.

I quickly direct Allen's attention to the backseat. "Don't worry, Lina's going to be sitting up front with him, not you. You can sit with me in back, okay?"

I can tell that this trip is already not what Allen expected. He glances at me and seems fine with it, though. He's adapting. "Yeah, okay."

I grin to reassure him and open the door for him. He gets in behind Linalee, and I go around to my original place behind the grumpy driver. "Onward to the mall, Kanda-kun!" I say with a fake Japanese-American accent to poke fun at him.

"Call me that again and I swear I will kill you," he snaps as he roars the engine into life.

I gulp. "Gotcha," I squeak in a small voice. Next to me, Allen laughs. I don't see what's so funny, but I like hearing him laugh. So I laugh as well as we pull out of his driveway. For a brief moment, I swear that I can see Cross smirking knowingly at us from the living room window.

o0-0o

"Who's hungry?" Linalee inquires when we enter the mall. "Because I was thinking that we could grab lunch first before we shop. We need the energy; there's plenty of exercise ahead of us."

Allen brightens up at the mention of food. "I'm all for that."

"Me, too," I answer, even if I had a filling breakfast.

"Whatever," Yuu grunts.

"Great, then it's settled!" Linalee says with a clap of her hands. "Let's head for the food court. I could go for a gooey cinnamon roll from Cinnabon."

"Mexican food sounds good to me," Allen remarks with a lick of his lips.

"I want teriyaki," I interpose as we take an escalator up to the main level of the mall.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a jerky movement. I turn around, but all I see is jewelry on a rack. Shrugging, I advert my attention to Allen. He's dressed adorably today; he has on these brown-and-blue plaid pants that match his hair and eyes, and above that he's wearing a cream argyle sweater vest that has nearly the same plaid, only with a bit of red mixed in. Underneath, there's a pale cadet blue short-sleeved shirt that matches the blue and red with a touch of brown plaid newsboy hat on his head. This kid really has style, even if it makes him look a tad schoolboy-ish.

Unfortunately, Linalee catches me in the act. She leans over to me and asks, "Are you checking Al out?"

I flush and shake my head, my eyes leaving his frame. "Nope. Why would I be?"

She eyes me suspiciously prior to leaning away and saying offhandedly, "He is pretty cute, so I'm not judging you if you were." This is her way of saying, 'I know you were, so stop pretending.' Curse her womanly instincts! I wish she wasn't able to sense when I'm hiding my feelings.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I sniff as I speed up my pace to leave her in the dust. I can hear her giggling, but I ignore it as I tail Allen. When I'm beside him, I decide to pop a question. "Which store is your favorite?"

"Barnes and Nobel," he responds automatically. "I love to read."

"Me too!" I can't help but say. He looks skeptical, and I know he's thinking that I'm only agreeing to have something in common with him. But it's honestly my favorite store. I never truly left my 'Bookman' title, not really. I'm a book man, meaning that I love books and reading. "What's with the face? It's true. I read _a lot._ If you don't believe me, come over some time and I'll show you my own little library."

His eyebrows raise, the left one nearly touching the star underneath his bangs. "No, I believe you. I just find it funny that we're so alike already."

"You have no idea," I grin, and succeed in confusing the younger boy.

"Hey, look! There's the food court!" Linalee's voice signals from behind me. I glance ahead and spot one of the many fast food places in the center of the mall.

It doesn't take too long for all of us to get our food and meet at a table in the center of the court. I make sure to seat close to Allen and make as much conversation with him as possible. But halfway through our meal, I notice another jerking motion out of the corner of my eye. I look around, and this time I see a girl with big round glasses and thick dark brown pigtails. I recognize her from the Order, but I don't remember her name. I apparently hadn't know her well enough in that life to recall her name.

She hovers around our table for a while. Then, as if signaled, Linalee looks up and smiles at her. "Hey, Roufa!"

Who?

She comes over, blushing, and pulls up a chair between Linalee and Allen. She smiles shyly and greets Allen before she even says hi to the girl who invited her over. "Hello, Allen…" she murmurs.

"Hi, Roufa," he replies casually, a faint smile on his face.

"Who's this girl, Allen?" I ask out of jealousy. The feeling is familiar, as if I've asked him this before **(1)**.

"Oh, that's right! You don't know Roufa. She's a girl from my science class," Allen says in introduction. "Roufa, this is my friend Lavi Deak."

She stares at me a moment, as if she's debating whether or not I'm a threat. She clearly likes Allen, with the way she's been tagging along behind us and currently blushing around him. My guess is, she was at the party last night but was too embarrassed to approach him in a crowd.

"Hi, Lavi," she says curtly before returning her attention to Allen. "So, um, Allen… I saw you here ad I thought I might drop by and see what you were up to."

He shrugs, and I suddenly realize that he's not interested in her, so I have no reason to be jealous. He's just being polite. Allen wipes his mouth of Spanish rice and answers, "I'm here with Linalee on a little shopping trip. She's spending some of the money she got last night at her birthday party."

"That's cool," Roufa replies as she fiddles with her braid. She's starting to bug me; I know I shouldn't be jealous because Allen obviously sees her as merely a classmate, but I can't help to think: _she needs to leave!_ _She's taking up my Allen-time._

I think Kanda is getting a bit impatient with her for other reasons, because he bursts out, "Can we go now? I'm done eating, and want to move on."

"Oh, okay," Linalee says simply. She finishes off a bite of cinnamon roll and chugs the remainder of her carton of milk. She stands and takes her coat off the back of her chair. "We're going to go now, Roufa. It was nice seeing you!"

Disappointed, the fangirl nods and stands as well. "Uh, yeah. See you around, Linalee… and Allen."

Allen smiles. "Bye, Roufa."

I nod in her direction, although I don't bother saying anything to her. Instead, I put my arm around Allen's shoulder all buddy-buddy like, just to mess with her. I know it's mean, but I would probably end up doing this without her here, so it's not too terribly cruel. I look over my shoulder to see Roufa frowning. I turn to face forward with a smile.

After a few steps, however, Allen shakes my arm from his shoulders. "What's with you?" he questions. He probably doesn't understand why I'm acting so friendly after only having met him the night before, nor does he probably understand why he's letting me. Poor Allen, he's so clueless.

"What do you mean?" I respond while Kanda and Linalee walk ahead of us, the girl of the two chatting idly (although from behind it's hard to tell which one is the girl, since Kanda's hair is so long and his torso is so thin).

"I mean, you're awfully affable around me."

"I prefer to call it 'flirting'," I smirk as I place my hands in my pockets.

He flushes a bit and jerks his head away. "Well, I don't like it."

"Why not? Everyone loves getting attention," I tease. Then, lowly, I test him by saying, "And you used to get plenty of it."

He angles his head towards me and searches my face. "What are you saying?"

I shrug. "Nothing," I fib. If he doesn't remember being such a martyr, then I won't remind him quite yet.

He stops walking and crosses his arms over his chest. "Don't toy with me, Lavi. What are you talking about? It's like you expect a certain reaction from me, and it's pretty unnerving."

I slow my pace and let my face fall out of it's lighthearted grin. I look him in the eye, and notice the spark of confusion in his pupils and the furrow of thought in his brows. I remain quiet, waiting to hear what he has to say.

"Just who are you, Lavi Deak?" he murmurs, "And what do you want from me?"

* * *

**Footnote: (1) In the anime episode 94, I noticed that Lavi seemed pretty jealous when Roufa was all "WALKER-SAAAAAN!" as soon as Allen walked through from the Ark. It amused me, even if i don't remember it happening quite like that in the manga (which I prefer).**

**A/N: Ouch, cliffhanger. Sort of. ;)**

**Next chapter:**

_[5]  
.Flash of Discovery._


	5. Flash of Discovery

**A/N: I feel like an asshole. I was supposed to upate this last weekend... oops. Well, I have no excuse. I can hardly blame school. I guess i can only blame my own laziness paried with my Spring Fever that's led me to travel outside a lot. Oh well, fresh air is good for you, right?**

**Hmm, this story is starting to turn not where I want it to go. I have to fix that; I need to slow a couple things down and speed a few other things up. Like the main events, and the romance. Maybe the next chapter will heal all my mistakes; after all, the next chapter has a title that I was originally going to use for a canonverse Laven story... ;D**

_

* * *

_

_[5]__  
__.Flash of Discovery._

"Who am I and what do I want from you?" I repeat as I lace my hands behind my head. I try to act casual about the question, even though it's sending my insides into a turbulent jumble. "Why that's simple, Allen: I'm someone from your past who's trying to get you to remember me," I finally confess. I just hope he thinks that I mean his childhood, or else he might wig out. Reincarnation is not widely believed in unless you're Buddhist. Which, judging by the teeny cross barely hidden under Allen's shirt, Allen is not. In this life, I'm willing to bet that he is Catholic or Christian.

"From my past?" Allen echoes delicately, his tone carrying the sweet melody of familiarity. "Now that I think about it, that could be true. We haven't known each other long and yet I feel comfortable around you. So let me ask the age-old pickup line: Have we met?"

I smile triumphantly. So he _does _remember me! – Only the memory is somewhere in the recesses of his mind. But at least I _am_ in his mind. Leaning down a tad, I reply mysteriously, "Yes, we have."

"When?" he wants to know as we spot Linalee scampering off into a nearby dress shop. She's fond of skirts and dresses; it's almost all she wears.

I hesitate a moment prior to answering him. I shouldn't expose the real truth yet; it wouldn't bode well. So maybe I should tell a little fib to cover my ass? Yes, that sounds like an excellent plan. "A long time ago. We were… very close friends." Okay, so it's not a total lie, but it's close enough to one that I feel guilty about it.

"We were? How old were we? I don't remember." Allen sighs, his tone regretful. He wants to remember me, but he can't, and it bothers him.

"Uh…" this is where I really have to lie big time. I can't say we were the same age as we are now. "We were really young. You were three and I was six."

"Which explains why I don't remember you," Allen concludes offhandedly. He stares at me a moment, studying me with his blue-silver eyes. "But I should. You're not a forgettable individual," he teases.

I chuckle lightly and shrug. "Maybe not now, but I was a pretty bland kid." This, at least, is the truth. Even as a six-year-old I was a big reader and soft-spoken, because I was too absorbed in my own thoughts. But if I had known Allen back then, I bet that would change. I would probably be rambunctious and carefree and loud. Being around him makes me that way; he's not all butter and sunshine like a dandelion, but Allen does have this sort of aura around him that causes you to become a better version of yourself. It's as if his compassionate, fierce aura bleeds into you and you have to go with it's rushing flow.

"Hey, Allen!" Linalee hollers from the store she slipped into earlier, "Come in here for a second! I want your opinion."

His opinion? On what, her clothes?

"Lavi, I want you in here, too," she adds in a slightly softer voice.

Allen and I pace into the store, a blast of perfume striking our nostrils with a flowery intensity. We discreetly cover our noses with our sleeves or collars and tag along behind Linalee. Kanda waits outside with a bored expression on his face. "What did you want to show us, Lina?" I inquire as she shuts herself behind a dressing room door.

Allen and I spend about three minutes leaning against the sides of the dressing room stall. Our waiting is filled with a gentle sneeze or two amidst an awkward silence. Not entirely awkward, though, since it's solely me who's the one so eager to talk. It's more of a thoughtful silence, in which Allen puzzles out if I was in his childhood whatsoever while I pick at the dirt under my nails.

When she emerges, she's covered from head to toe in black, white, and silver. An immediate trigger is set off, my memories of her Black Order self coating my mind. Allen blinks at her, puzzled. The little jacket-and-skirt combination along with the tall black boots she was already wearing probably stirs up some sort of déjà vu in his mind. I test him by complimenting Linalee. "What really suits you, Linalee."

"Are you sure?" she murmurs. She gazes at herself in the three-way mirror beside the changing rooms. "I think this jacket is a little snug around my chest."

I bite back saying a perverted thing like, 'I think it hugs your breasts nicely.'

Allen shakes himself from his daze and remarks lowly, "I like it, Linalee. I don't know how to describe it, but it reminds me of something I've seen before."

"You know, I thought so, too," Linalee comments airily. "I saw it on a mannequin and thought: that would look great on me. It's like something I should wear." She giggles. "But that sounds silly, doesn't it?"

"No, not at all!" I burst out, a small surprise whacking me in the face.

This is incredible! Without realizing it, I think Linalee got a brief memory of her Order years! Man, I've been so centered on getting Allen to remember that I stopped trying to trigger memories in my friends. But maybe I won't have to! Maybe, if I let things take their natural course, they all will recall the events on their own without my dropped hints. If so, then the way I act around Allen can be much smoother. If I let things progress in their natural order and not press for the past, the memories might come naturally. That could be my problem all along: I was forcing it, and by doing so, I got no results. Heh, now that I think on it, this revelation actually explains a lot. Makes me feel like a moron for all those wasted years…

"What makes you say that, Lavi?" Linalee says, snapping me out of my scattered thoughts.

"Um," I hesitate, "I was just thinking that sometimes things call out to you, y'know? Sometimes even from a past life," I can't help by add as I steal a sideways glance at Allen. He seems unaffected by the remark.

Linalee nods wholeheartedly. Being Chinese, she believes in past lives. And yet I haven't dared mention her own past life, for fear that she'll ridicule me, saying that I'm making fun of her beliefs or playing a prank on her (even though I would never joke about a thing like _that!_). "Hmm… You have a point, Lavi. It's possible."

As she continues to show us random outfits, I begin to wonder why Allen seemed so indifferent when I mentioned past lives. Is it because he doesn't believe in it, or is it because he wasn't paying attention? I'd really like to know.

"Okay," Linalee says after a dozen minutes, "I think that's all. I'm going to go buy these three things. In the meantime, Lavi, could you _show Allen around the mall for a while?_" she stresses, her tone hinting at what we discussed earlier. She wants me to distract him while she looks for his birthday present. She must be planning to go buy something nearby.

"Sure!" I say with a wink. "Come on, Allen. Let's ditch Kanda and go on a little shopping spree, starting with the candy store!"

The candy store, appropriately named 'Impulse Buys', is on the level of the mall just above this one. The mall has three floors, the first of which we entered from, the second of which we are standing on right now, and the third of which we're about to journey to. Most of the second floor is department stores, so all the fun stuff is up top. Like the game shops, candy stores, ice cream stands and random funky places like antique boutiques (try saying that five times fast) and emo-rocker stores.

"Uh, alright… We'll meet up with you later, Linalee!" Allen yells to her as I drag him away by the elbow, my own linked with his as if we're going off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz.

Out in the open, the song 'Do Ya' by McFly – a favorite band of Linalee's – plays over the radio. I start to skip to it's beat, and beside me, Allen laughs as he scrambles to keep up. A couple people stare at us oddly, but Allen doesn't seem to notice, so I pretend that I don't notice, either. For all they know, we could be cousins or brothers messing around, not necessarily a gay couple. Tch, some people's minds are _so_ prejudice.

We skip over to the escalator and ride it up, up, up to the third level. On the little trip, Allen catches his breath and states, "Your unpredictability is giving me whiplash."

"Ah, but at least I'm not so predictable that you're bored to death. I think compared to the dimly grey world, a cheerful dose of whiplash is quite the pick-me-up," I respond with a poke to his chest.

He laughs again for a short moment. "I can't argue with that," he says. He straightens himself and brushes the mousy brown hair out of his face as he gazes up at the stores on the next level. We step off of the escalator and stroll alongside the glass railing that peers down into the two levels of shopping mall below. "So, where's the candy store?"

"Right next to Oldies Galore, a little antique shop where you can buy meaningless old trinkets from anywhere between fifty and a hundred years ago," I state casually. I point a finger. "It's over yonder."

Allen's gaze follows my finger and lands on the two stores, which contrast greatly when placed beside one another. The one on the left, closest to us, is a dismal brown with dusty miscellaneous items in the windows. Then, the one on the right, our current destination, is a vibrant array of rainbow colors with confetti-covered stands in the window displaying some of the many delicious treats inside. Old-fashioned alongside new-aged. It's such an odd pair to have in a mall, and yet everyone likes to get candy from one and then venture out of curiosity into the other. It's almost as if the two shops attract customers for the other.

"Can we go into Oldies Galore first?" Allen requests in a mystified tone. "I really want to browse what they have."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "That ancient junk interests you?"

He nods vigorously as we grow closer to the wooden columns on either side of the open entranceway. "I've always been fascinated with things from another time before mine. I don't know why… That's just how it is."

Okay, so I was correct when I said I should stop meddling and start going with the flow. Clearly, it's working wonders on it's own. I smile. "Well, there's nothing wrong with that," I reply. "It's surprises me, that's all. I'm not judging you."

"I didn't think that you were," he answers coyly as he slips into the store.

The scent of musty books and moldy objects overtakes my nose, nearly suffocating me. I'm used to the musky book smell, since I've visited the library at the university plenty of times, but it's the mold that's starting to bother me. I don't think I can hang around in here for very long; my allergies to mold spores might act up. Yes, I know this is a lame allergy to have, but it's true. I'm allergic to spores of any kind, including large amounts of pollen.

I yank my shirt up and breathe into it as I ask, "How long are you going to be in here, Allen? I can't stay here if it's going to be more than twenty minutes."

He takes one look at my watery eyes and cloth-covered nose and understands immediately. "Don't worry," he says reassuringly, "It won't be more than ten minutes. Just stick it out while I peruse the merchandise, m'kay?"

"M'kay," I mumble behind my shirt. I walk behind him as his hands graze over a violin, an old radio from the 40's, and a magnifying glass.

"I love how classy it all looks," he tells me softly. The cashier smiles at us and asks if we need help in finding something. I can tell by the expression on the older man's face that he's pleased to see young folk admiring stuff as old as he is, or more. But Allen shakes his head, saying that he's only browsing. The cashier nods and picks up a magazine, waiting for us to either make a choice to buy something or to leave.

I look around, my emerald eyes scanning the place. It looks a lot like junk to me, the kind of stuff you use to decorate an empty living room or study within a big house. But something a brassy-gold color catches my eye. I realize that Allen, too, is staring directly at the same object. My mouth falls open in shock, my hand dropping my shirt as I comprehend just what it is I'm looking at. "Oh my God," I whisper.

In a daze, Allen creeps closer to the baseball-sized object and instantly picks it up as soon as his fingers are within reaching distance. "Timcanpi," he says, the name as clear as day.

"You remember him, don't you?" I ask as I come up behind Allen.

He whirls around and stares wide-eyed at me. "Yeah, but… how do you know that? And just what is he?"

"He's a golem," I reply, being careful not to answer the first question. "A robotic assistant and messenger."

"A robot?" he echoes as he turns the little ball over in his hands, unrolling the long tail from around the teeny horns and engraved cross. I can see his amazement as the semi-living creature reveals it's face. "Tim… yes, I do remember you. But how? And from what time? I wasn't… Was I? But you must be at least one hundred years old, so how…?"

I can tell that he's terribly confused, and probably getting a headache. I know during my first few memory flashes I grew dizzy. He must be the same.

Suddenly, the golden ball uncoils and shakes dust from itself, bringing back most of it's original shine. He looks up at Allen, and like in the Ark, it's like the golem is starting to cry. Allen brings Timcanpi to his chest, and it's sharp-toothed mouth opens to lick Allen's cheek.

The brunet turns to me and blinks his bleary eyes. "I need to buy him. He belongs with me, not in this place. I need to get him out of here."

I place a hand on his shoulder. "Then go buy him, Allen. I'll be waiting outside for you."

"Okay," he replies with a grin as he takes the small bundle up to the cash register.

I walk out of the shop and lean against the giant candy cane-decorated pole, the sounds of murmuring passersby, clicking heels alongside flapping flip-flops, and ringing cash registers reaches my ears. Vaguely, I wonder how much Timcanpi would be worth. He's not solid gold, since even Cross couldn't afford something like that back in the day, but he might be a hefty penny unless Allen haggles a bit. I wonder how much money he even brought with him on this little outing.

I find out soon enough. Allen steps out of the shop, his head cocked up at Timcanpi, who's flapping his wings and twitching his swirly tail idly at Allen's side. "I can't believe that old man was willing to give Tim to me for twenty-five dollars. Normally, he would be worth a lot more. But I think the man was too shocked by Tim's flying and reaction towards me to charge me that much."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "So you got off pretty cheap with him, then?"

Allen chuckles as he brushes back some of his light brown hair. I don't think I can get used to that; I'm too used to the memory of his snow-white hair. "Yeah, I guess I did. Cool, huh?"

"Very," I supply as a vague answer while I peek inside the candy store. "So, shall we move on, then?"

Timcanpi seems eager enough, the last of the dust on his metallic body brushing off while he flies on ahead towards the entrance of the festively colored shop. Allen and I follow, and the second we walk in, our noses are assaulted by the scent of saltwater taffy and chocolate.

"Wow, this place is huge! Much bigger than the candy store from the town I used to live in," Allen remarks lightly as he trails down one of the many aisles. I tag along behind him, my eyes scanning the shelves. It's mostly candy bars in this aisle, each one with some form of chocolate in them.

"I dunno about you," I say with a chuckle as I run my hand along a row of candy bars, "But I'm like a kid when I walk in here. I feel like I can buy out the whole store."

"Me, too," Allen says. "But mainly because I get so hungry just looking at it."

Classic Allen: hunger strikes at any moment, even after eating not more than twenty minutes ago. Only I doubt he can blame his arm this lifetime around.

"Well then, take your pick. I'll buy you something," I offer kindly.

"Really?" he inquires skeptically. "And why's that? Because you feel bad that I had to spend over half my money on... er, an antique?"

I guess he doesn't realize to what extent that I know who Timcanpi is and why Allen bought him, or how I knew he was a golem. "Yeah, that's part of it. But the other reason is that I feel like it. Can't I buy some candy for my new pal?"

He smiles. "Yeah, I suppose so. In that case," he says as he ducks around a corner, "I'd like –"

But he cuts himself off and stops dead in his tracks. I bump into him on accident, my clumsy feet stumbling around his. I flush momentarily, but as I look up to see what stopped him, my face drains of all color.

I can almost feel the same sickening churn in my stomach that I felt when I saw Tyki at the university. Instead of him, however, I'm faced with a different blast from my past: Rhode.

She had a long unicorn-horn sucker in her mouth, the twisting rainbow being wiped away by her tongue. She turns her eyes on Allen and I, and I notice that they're somehow that same golden color like before. She grins. "Hello, boys," she says sweetly, but it reminds me too much of the falsely innocent tone she would give in the past. "Am I in your way? I'll move."

She steps aside, her footwork just as graceful as I remember. A chill runs down my spine as I remember being cast under her spell, my mind detract from my body, my heart from my soul…

_"Allen!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. He was burnt to a crisp, and fell back into the water with his fingers still gripping the ace of spades. I didn't realize until later that it was Rhode posing as Allen, and that all I had to du was stab his chest to get to her._

_"What's with the reaction?" a different version of myself chimed in with a strange grin on his – my – face. "A Bookman has no need for friends. Yet you hold him dear to you, don't you? That's not good… No, it's not good at _all_."_

_I panted, my heart racing wildly in my chest. _It's an illusion,_ I told myself over and over again. I knew it t be the truth, but I still couldn't take it._

_"La… Lav—i… Lavi…" Allen was croaking._

_"Lavi, Lavi, Lavi," more voices chanted around me, as zombie-like versions of Linalee, Kanda, and Krory closed in on me._

_I didn't even scream when they stabbed me. I didn't even stutter as I fell to the watery floor. Without their knowing, I stabbed myself to maintain consciousness. But it was in vain, because I couldn't return my will to my body. Outside of myself, I knew that I was being controlled. I knew that Rhode was deeming my heart dead, and was using my body to hurt Allen. I knew this, and yet I had no control over it. For a short time, Rhode had won._

I sap out of the memory with a slow shake of my head. I put on a fake smile. "Thanks, Miss," I say, pretending that I don't know her. "Come on, Allen. Let's get the candy you wanted."

"Noah," he whispers so lowly I can hardly hear him.

I freeze in place. "What was that?" I ask. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rhode smiling wider as she walks away to another aisle.

"Noah," he repeats, a hair louder this time. He looks directly into my eyes, and I see that one of his has shifted color and pattern; it's red and black, and resembles his old left eye. What the hell…?!

I swallow hard. "How do you know that?" I mumble with a tone to my voice that sounds frightened even to me. I'm glad that he remembers something, but it's not good which thing he remembers. "How do you know about Noah?"

"I don't," Allen replies stiffly. His eyes pan over to Rhode, who I can tell is putting on an act. She appears to be surfing through the jelly beans, when in actuality she's watching us. "It's just… sometimes, I get a headache behind my left eye and I start seeing things. Like these crosses lining people's foreheads that weren't there a moment ago." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, you probably think I'm crazy. I know Linalee worries about me when I mention these things to her. But she believes me, for some reason."

_Probably because she vaguely remembers the Noah as well, _I think to myself. I place my hands on Allen's shoulders. "Listen, Allen: I don't think you're crazy. So far today, you've actually been proving your sanity." He opens his mouth, probably to ask what I mean. But I cut him off. "I just want you to know that no matter what weird stuff happens, I'm here to help you."

He frowns in confusion at me as I release my grip on him. I feel bad, because I know Allen doesn't understand a word of what I'm saying. But in due time, he will. Meanwhile, we have Rhode to worry about. She's acting a bit suspicious, and according to what Allen said about the things he sees, I'm guessing that there's something very wrong going on here. I can feel the foreboding aura in my gut.

"Maybe we should leave," Allen utters under his breath. "I suddenly feel too sick to even look at candy."

"Same here," I reply. We wordlessly slip out of the store and pace in the opposite direction, not even bothering to mention to the other where we're going. I think we're just trying to get away.

Within minutes, Linalee and Kanda pop up before our eyes. "Hey, you two! Have a nice time together? Sorry to make you wait, but there was some stuff I had to do."

"Hey, Linalee," Allen answers in a far-away tone of voice. "Yeah, we had a nice time. I bought something, and Lavi took me to Impulse Buys for some candy. But, uh, I started to not feel very well."

"Me either," I add as I hold a hand up to my stomach. "I think our lunches didn't agree with us."

"Oh, I'm sorry! Should we cut our shopping time short, then?" she asks with concern. In the background, Kanda merely grunts.

"Nah, you two can keep shopping. Just Allen and I will go home."

"But how? We all drove here in Kanda's car," the Chinese girl reminds me.

I smile. "You forget that there are taxis. I'll call one with my cell phone and Allen and I can hitch a ride home. I'm sorry to leave you like this, Lina, but stuff happens, ya know?"

She sighs. "You're right." She leans forward with open arms. I give her a quick hug. "Feel better, Lavi. I'll see you later." She turns to Allen and does the same. "Take care."

"We will," Allen responds with a lopsided smile. I can tell that his mind is as much in a daze as my own. One look at Timcanpi and Rhode, and suddenly we're both spiraling down Memory Lane. At least I am, and I can only assume that Allen is the same.

"By the way," Linalee poses before we head off, "What did you buy, Allen?"

I can tell that she's asking to make sure she didn't buy him something that he already bought himself.

Allen smiles. "Just an antique, that's all," he tells her. I can see Timcanpi peeking out of his jacket pocket. He shoves his hand inside to cover the little golem up. With a last wave, he says, "See ya, Linalee."

o0-0o

We pile into the back of the taxi, and I'm glad that the driver has a thick plastic barrier between the front and back seats. It allows Allen and I some privacy to talk things over.

As expected, Allen is the first to ask questions. "Alright, Lavi, it's time we cleared some things up. You've been acting weird ever since I met you. I know it's abnormal for you because Linalee keeps sending you confused looks. Plus, I get the feeling that you're hiding something from everyone. What's going on, huh? How come you knew what Timcanpi was? How come you don't think I'm crazy when I bring up a Bible name but don't use it in the Biblical context? And how come you avoided my question when I asked who you are?"

I fiddle with my thumbs and exhale languidly from my mouth. "You have to understand something, Allen: everyone has secrets, and everyone knows at least one thing that they shouldn't. I just happen to have a lifetime worth of secrets from knowing things I should never have to know."

"Well, I'm listening. And we quite the car ride left to go, so you might as well spill those secrets. Because Linalee and I don't keep anything from each other since we're both very open, honest people; it's what built the foundation of our friendship. So if you want me to be your friend, Lavi, then you're going to have to tell me whatever you can."

Dammit, Allen is so stubborn. He always was, but part of me wonders if this new Allen is more stubborn than the last. Although he does look cute like that, his lip jet out from the injustice of it all and his arms crossed over his chest. I feel like a letch when I stare at him like this, because the urge to lean over and kiss his pouty, annoyed face and hold him is extremely strong. But I have to remember that I'm a stranger to him, so it would be awkward if I acted on my desires.

"Fine," I relent with a toss of my hands. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"I can handle it," he prods.

Sighing, I begin with the simplest of statements: "I knew you about one hundred years ago. What we are today are reincarnations of the selves we were back then. But we aren't the only ones; Linalee, Kanda, your uncle Cross… they all used to live back then, too. Timcanpi was with us then, and that's why you remember him and had to buy him today. And why, when I first saw you, I knew your name before you even introduced yourself. You and I were… close friends. I knew you better than anyone else, and vice versa. We were part of an organization that battle Akuma made by a villain that went by the name of the Millennium Earl. His servants, or 'family', were called Noah. That girl we saw in the candy store… she must be a reincarnation like the rest of us, because she exactly resembles one of the Noah named Rhode." I pause for emphasis, and to give Allen a bit of time to wrap his mind at least part of the way around this concept. It's a vast piece of information crammed into a small paragraph, but I hope that he understands. "So you see, Allen… we're all part of a cycle, something much bigger than us. And because of who I used to be, I remember everything all too well. The others rarely get flashbacks, but it seems that you've had two today. Thus far, I think you remember the most aside from me."

Silence pools in the backseat of the taxi for a long time. I watch Allen's profile carefully, and note the way his eyes are bulging in shock and deep thought. After some time, he starts shaking his head steadily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he whispers gutturally. "I'm not someone reborn from the past; I'm just me! I'm just Allen! Sure, I recognized Timcanpi, but that's because I used to draw a little character like him when I was young! What you're saying makes no sense. You're right, I'm not crazy. But you sure as hell are!"

I shrink back from his rising voice. My tongue dies between my teeth, my words lost in my throat.

Suddenly, Allen leans forward and throws open the small latch in the plastic. He barks at the cabbie, "I want out! Here's close enough." He tosses some money – the last of his, I'm assuming – and hurtles himself out the back door as the cab drive comes to a sudden stop on the side of a road near Allen's neighborhood.

"Allen! Allen, wait!" I scream as I leap out of the taxi and chase after him. but he's running at top speed away from me, his shorter legs carrying his slim figure at speeds I can't match with my slightly out of shape body. "ALLEN!" I yell one last time before I bend over to grip my knees and catch my breath.

Staring down at the ground and feeling worse than a pile of trash being compacted at a local dump, I notice a few wet blotches on the pavement. I glance up at the sky; it's clear. Curiously, I touch one of the blotches and bring it to my lips. It's salty, like tears.

I don't know why, but Allen's crying. And somehow, I know that it was me who hurt him.

I just hope that whatever I've done can be forgiven.

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[6]__  
__.Graceful Agony._


	6. Graceful Agony

**A/N: This might be going a little faster than some of my other fics. But it needs to in certain places; I need Allen to be coorperative, huhu. Plus, the "real plot" is on the way. It involves villians and someone being framed and romance and everything good that I know you readers like. :D**

**So, uh, be patient. For now, just read what's leading into the "real plot". =3 **

* * *

_[6]__  
__.Graceful Agony._

There is one major aftermath from yesterday of which I am absolutely positive of: Allen is so furious with me that he's not even speaking to me.

I called his home phone number seven times since he ran from the taxi cab, and five of those times it didn't get a chance to go to voicemail before Allen answered without a word and hung up on me, mid-sentence. If he doesn't talk to me by my tenth call, then I'm going to storm over to his house and demand that he does, because I don't take well to the silent treatment. I believe in working things out, no matter what the circumstance.

Problem is, I don't know what to say to him. Should I say that it was all a lie, one big joke, and that I didn't mean it? Or should I attempt a do-over, in which I convince him to let us start at the beginning of things, starting with our names? Maybe that would be best. But things wouldn't be the same.

"I wish I knew what to do," I groan as I shove my hand under my pillow and draw it underneath my head. Closing my eyes, I wonder why it is I keep calling him when I don't even have single hunch as to what to say. The answer dawns on me as soon as I wonder this, however. "It's because I was hoping the words would just come to me," I sigh. "But I'm an idiot, because I forgot that I make the worst mistakes when I don't plan."

It feels odd to think aloud to myself, but it helps me sort a few things out and come to simple realizations. But I suppose it's that way for everyone to bothers to talk to themselves when they're alone.

My whole body aches. I can feel a throbbing, slow and painful, starting in my chest and working it's way out to my fingertips and toes like a ripple effect in a pool of distilled water.

About a half hour passes as I lie here, lightly dozing and stewing miscellaneous thoughts inside of my cranium. I don't even bother to note any of my thoughts; they're too spacey and full of angst and agony to save for later. I do know, however, that most of them start with the phrase 'what if…?'

I raise my head to the sudden sound of ringing. I grab the phone off of my dresser where I left it and without looking at the caller ID, gasp a name into the receiver. "Allen?"

I'm answered with giggling. "No, silly! It's Linalee. I'm calling to make sure that you and Allen got home alright. It's funny, because Kanda didn't even need to drop me off; turns out, my brother was following us at the mall! He was making sure that I didn't get into trouble, since I was with all boys. My brother has _such_ a protection complex. I can take care of myself! Besides, what would you or Kanda or Allen ever do to me? We're friends." There's a pause as what I can only assume is the action of her shaking her head or rolling her eyes. "Anyway, you two got home okay, right? And are you feeling okay? You said the food was bad and upset your stomach, so I thought I might drop by later if you wanted me to…"

I exhale at a snail's pace, the carbon dioxide-filled hair passing hotly between my teeth. "Um, yeah, we got home alright. And I'm feeling fine, thanks. But, uh, Linalee… I kinda-sorta got Allen mad at me."

"Oh no!" she gasps softly. "How mad is 'mad'?"

"Super mad. The kind of mad that made him furious enough to stop the taxi and hop out."

"Wow. What on Earth happened?" I can picture her face growing tender with concern.

"You see, that I'm not entirely sure of," I say, clueless. And it's the God's honest truth; I have no clue exactly what conspired earlier today. I solely know that I messed up. I shouldn't have told the truth so soon! I should've waited until more things happened; I should have waited until he was asking me if we were in a past life together. If I had waited, maybe… maybe things would have panned out for the better.

"You mean, you're not sure as in 'I don't want to tell you,' or you're not sure as in, 'I really don't know, I'm in too much shock.'?" Linalee questions with a puzzled tone.

I sigh into the receiver, causing static to clog the line for a brief moment. "I really don't know, I'm in too much shock."

"Oh…"

"_Yeah._"

"I'm sorry, Lavi."

"Me too."

There's a pause on the phone, and then Linalee poses, "What are you going to do?"

"I've already called him seven times. The next step I guess would be to pay him a visit tomorrow and plead to work things out," I remark lightly as I shake a snow globe Gramps got me from New York. It has a mini 3-D model of the skyline and the Statue of Liberty, with giant chunks of white 'snow' swirling around.

"That's probably for the best. Good luck, Lavi." She clears her throat politely. "Well, I just wanted to check up on you. I think I'll call him next, okay? Goodbye!"

"Bye, Lina." I mumble miserably as I press 'end'. I wish I could explain to her the full problem… but she'd never believe it, even if I had proof of everything (unlike what I had when I explained things to Allen).

Downstairs, I can hear the old panda hollering at me to come down and eat dinner. But I don't feel hungry. I feel sick, the worry and doubt in my stomach stirring an uproar that takes my appetite away. But because I haven't eaten since lunch, my body feels lethargic. So in a way, I couldn't get out of bed even if I was hungry. Go figure.

Sighing for the hundredth time to myself, I roll onto my tummy and plant my head under my pillow. Gramps hollers one last time, but I don't feel like answering. If he has to, he can trudge up all those stairs to talk to me. He's in pretty good shape, so it won't kill him. I contemplate what I could have done differently. Or what I did do that could make Allen feel bad enough to cry. But my mind turns up blank like the back side of a page, and begins to wander. I allow it to, because I'm getting a bit tired of thinking. It's all I did in the past; shouldn't I get the chance for a break?

In the recesses of my mind, fading colors and blurred shapes take form. I recap certain parts of the day that were pleasant; Allen's complimentary clothing, Kanda's annoyance, Linalee's cheerful suggestions, Allen's lit face when he saw Timcanpi, Allen's true smile. My chest heats up with the slightly faster beating of my heart, and I grin to myself as I drift off into sleep.

Good thing tomorrow's Sunday; I would hate to have to wake up early from such lovely visions.

o0-0o

I woke up Sunday morning to teeny pricks at my ear, and tugs at my hair. At first, I think it's a cat, but as I wake up more I remember that we don't have a cat. I shoot up in bed, hoping it's not some wild animal hat crawled in through my window. That happened once; a raccoon got into our house and terrorized my poor grandfather…

I blink groggy eyes at sunlight peeking behind my shade and a shimmer of gold in it's beam. "T-Timcanpi?" I sputter as I rub the crust from my eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He can't answer verbally, so he plops down on top of my covers between the two long bumps that are my covered legs. He opens his mouth, a stream of video being projected above his little head. Apparently, all his recording and playback features are still fully functional.

The video doesn't hold much color, and it's a bit dark from the aged machinery, but streaming from Timcanpi's data hard drive is a projection of Allen hugging his knees on what looks like his bed. There's a date in the corner, but no time. It's dated as yesterday.

"_Tim,"_ Allen's slightly muffled voice says in the recording, _"I'm confused, and a bit afraid."_

The little ball's camera jerks for a moment. Allen glances away.

"…_Fine. So I'm more than 'a bit' afraid. I'm really scared, okay? It feels like… it feels like everything I know has changed since I met him, and only got worse when I found you. – Er, not that I wasn't happy to see you; I was, and am glad that I have you back now, but that's just it! I don't understand why I'm glad, and why I said 'back'. And when he explained all that stuff… I dunno, I panicked. It made no sense, and yet, part of me wondered if it's true. That, or he's a stalker that knows about what I used to draw as a kid. And yes, those drawings were of you, Timcanpi. I'll show you sometime; they aren't very good, but they're unmistakable."_

I know the 'he' he keeps referring to is me. I'm the lone 'him' that Allen's recently met, and the only 'he' that's told him anything.

Allen continues on with: _"What's more confusing is that Uncle knew who you were right away. And something – similar to a déjà vu – told me that it's because he's seen you before, maybe even owned you. But how could he have? I don't remember seeing you when I visited him when I was young, and I'm pretty sure you were in that antique shop for much longer than I've been alive. Or than my uncle has been alive, for that matter."_

He curls himself into a tighter ball and puts his head down. His shoulders shake with sobs I can't quite hear.

"_I don't understand it, Tim. I keep seeing Lavi's face in my head, but he's wearing an eye patch. Why would he wear an eye patch? He never has since I've met him, and it's only been a couple days! I just don't understand… and it's hurting me. I have a headache with all the things I think I remember simply because he said what he did."_

Suddenly, he gets angry, his head snapping up as he slams his left hand (what used to be a demented anti-Akuma weapon) against his mattress. His eyes and nose are pink with tears, and his brows are downcast in a furious scowl.

"_He shouldn't have said that kind of stuff to me! Doesn't he know that memories are unreliable? Doesn't he knows that past lives are merely things of fiction? All memory has a lacuna, a hole. All memories are fuzzy and incomplete. It's impossible to recall something exactly how it used to be, if it even happened in the first place! So how can he tell me that he and I were in a past life together with all of our friends, plus others? I hate that I broke down so easily, but he doesn't understand the problems I've had with my memory over the years."_

I wince a few times, but the last sentence throws me off balance. What problems with his memory?

In the projection, Allen wipes his nose on his sleeve and sniffs. _"The weird part is, Tim, I miss him already. But I can't tell him that; I can't answer his calls and let him explain himself. If he brings up history, I might snap. Somehow, I don't feel comfortable with it. The second he mentioned it in the cab, I felt suffocated and trapped. I thought of one thing: 'I need to get out of here.' So I did. But now my emotions are all jumbled, and what happened is nugatory."_

The camera turns to the side. Timcanpi must be cocking his head at this point, inquiring what Allen means.

Allen brushes back his hair and wipes at his grey-blue eyes. _"I mean," _he starts as if Timcanpi had actually spoken, _"Lavi is already willing to forget the whole thing and move on. That's why he keeps calling me. He wants to take it all back. This tells me that he was either pulling an awful prank or he's desperate to fix things with me. And if it's the initial reason, then that makes the whole scenario unimportant, not to mention pointless." _He blows at his bangs and dabs the perspiration from his forehead with the tail of his shirt. _"And to be honest, is that's the case, then I will ever forgive him. It hurts too much. Because, you know, I was just starting to feel like I could get close to him without worrying about things being hard like most of my relationships with people are, and then this goes and happens."_ Allen shakes his head remorsefully. _"Too bad, huh, Timcanpi?"_

Without warning, the projection cuts to a blank screen and is then sucked into the golem's mouth. He stares at me despite his lack of eyes, and I stare back. After a while, I state, "Well that's certainly a wake-up call. Literally."

In seconds, I'm throwing the sheets off my legs, sending Timcanpi flying into the air as I toss off my wrinkled, slept-in mall clothes and search my messy floor for a semi-clean pair of jeans. I find a pair, and raid my dresser drawers for a decent t-shirt. Once I have an old Pink Floyd tee from Rock America hanging off of my torso, I storm out of my room.

"Come on, Timcanpi," I usher softly so not to wake my grandfather, "We have a young high school student to visit. There's something we need to show him that will help clear up a few things."

The golden orb does a small acrobatic loop in the air, his tail twirling behind him. Then, with a flutter of his wings, he follows me out to my lovable truck parked in our musky garage.

o0-0o

Thanks to my miraculous photographic memory, I was able to reach Allen's house without getting lost. But as I'm standing here on the edge of his front lawn, staring up at a window I can only guess must be his, I feel that in this instant I shouldn't have come. And yet in coming this far, I have to keep going. Once I stepped out of the car, there was no turning back; and if I go back now, I'll think myself a coward. And no one is harsher on me than I am.

I turn to the Snitch-lookalike and ask rhetorically, "Should you ring the bell or should I?"

"I think you shouldn't ring the bell at all," replies a smug voice from the side yard. My neck cracks from the speed of my head turning. The owner of the voice shows himself seconds later. It's Cross with a cigarette in between his fingers. He nods to the smoking object. "Allen hates it when I smoke indoors, so I have to come outside. And now that I've explained myself, may I ask why you're here, boy?"

I glance down at my hands, which presently are taking residence in my pockets. "Nothing, I just… uh…"

"You're the one who kept calling yesterday, aren't you? And you're probably the reason why my nephew has been acting oddly as of late. So tell me… what the fuck did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" I squeak in response. Nothing whatsoever, really; simply that I confused and scared the shit out of him. That's all. (I want to smack myself right about now.)

"Nothing, huh?" Cross remarks skeptically around a long drag at his cigarette. He forces the smoke out slowly from his nostrils. "Then you sure have some 'splaining to do, Lucy."

I laugh weakly at the _I Love Lucy_ reference. "I don't know if I can tell you –"

"I didn't mean that you should explain to _me_," he corrects. He coughs onto his sleeve. "I mean that you should go up there and explain it to _him._ The door's unlocked. And his room is at the far right of the hallway at the top of the stairs. You can't miss it."

As the pinkish-red haired man retreats back into the shadows, I realize that he has a point: I should stop gawking and go up there and do what I came to do. Nodding to myself, I motion for Timcanpi to follow as I march up the steps to the front door. With a sort of confidence that feels more fake than real, I throw it open, kick off my shoes, and shut it behind me with my rump as I head for the main staircase.

Music drifts to my ears through the door Cross deemed as the entrance to his nephew's room. Beside me, Timcanpi taps his tail against my shoulder and points. I nod, and force a friendly smile to my lips as I knock softly against the wood with my middle knuckle. I recognize the music now; it's Brad Caleb Kane, and his song 'Go Mad'. I didn't even know that anyone knew about his music; he's not super popular.

"I said I don't want to come out yet, Uncle!" Allen's voice barks from within.

I force a laugh. "I'm not your uncle, bean sprout."

The music cuts off and there's ruckus from inside. I hear things crash and something getting hit with a soft 'Ouch! Dammit…' following it. Then, with a gust of air that smells of clean sheets, deodorant-laced sweat, and citrus cologne, Allen's blinking up at me. One hand is against the wall, and his other is on the doorknob. "Lavi…" he breathes out. Then, more temperamental, he adds: "What brought you here?"

"I'm sorry that I stressed you out so much yesterday –"

"Humph, you should be," he grunts as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And I know that I made you cry, which I feel tremendously awful about."

He's silent now, clearly waiting for the rest.

"…And, uh, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make you understand. So, if you could let me in…" I plead with him, my tone low and serious. I rub the back of my head, my hand smoothing over my vibrant crimson hair.

I watch with a hurt expression in my eyes as he throws open the door by means of begrudgingly permitting me inside his room. I take a quick gander at the small mess of mostly clothing paired with the scattered video game cases, dusty shelves, and numerous novels in a bookcase. Everything has a simple color coordination: grey, red, wood tones, black.

"Um, actually," I begin lamely as my eyes come full circle from the room and land on my friend's face, "I came because…" I pause to weigh my options. I could lie a little to cover my ass, or I could burst out with the truth. However, I've learned that springing the truth on him isn't a wise choice. So incorporating a white lie it is. "I found Timcanpi wandering my neighborhood… I think he was looking for me. He doesn't like seeing us fight, Allen; he knows that we're supposed to be friends."

"And how can I know that's what Timcanpi thinks, huh? It's not like he can voice his opinion. For all I know, you're just trying to get me to believe your stupid fairytale about –"

"It's no fairytale!" I shoot back desperately. I bring my pointer and middle fingers to my temples and rub them a bit. "Just… give me a chance to show you something, Allen. After that," I say as I drop my hands and stare into his eyes, "You can choose if you want to associate with me or not."

He appears skeptic and intrigued and uncomfortable all at the same time. Glancing down, he complies. "Alright, fine. I'll hear you out."

I smile gratefully. "Thanks, Allen. You won't regret it." I look to Timcanpi. "Okay, buddy, I need you to do me a favor: can you dig up some old video files of our days at the Order to show Allen? It'll help him remember."

The golden ball flashes a sharp-toothed grin before opening up and tossing a projection onto the wall.

My memory can't follow along with the video, since it's of Allen's rescue of Linalee when he first met Miranda and Rhode Kamelot. I wasn't there for that. But the next clippit is of my paranoid trip to meet the so-called 'vampire', whom came to eventually be our good friend Arystar Krory III.

"I… I know her... She was at Linalee's party, but…" Allen murmurs as the scene with Miranda plays. "And that's Linalee and the girl we saw at the candy store…" Then, his eyes bulge as the scene changes to our vampire hunting mission. He smiles vaguely as my over paranoid antics are replayed. And then Krory shows himself, Allen lets out a little squeak. "That's my windowed recluse of a next-door neighbor!"

I cock my head and put on my best 'huh?' face. "Say what?"

"_Him_!" Allen exclaims as he points to Krory's face. "That's Mr. Krory! Right now, he lives in the house adjacent to mine. But in Timcanpi's recording, he's…" Allen shakes his head. "I don't understand. I seriously don't. I know all of this, what Timcanpi's showing me… and I also know the people from this day and age as well as back then. But why? Why do I get the feeling that I'm remembering all this? And how come I know that white-haired boy that resembles me actually_ is_ me?"

"Because all of the things I've been trying to tell you are true," I stress to him with gentle force. "Allen, you _are _a reincarnation. And that white-haired Exorcist is your incarnation. His soul, his memories… they live in your body. And that boy, there… the one with the giant hammer and goofy smile… that's me. At least, it used to be me, back when I was an aspiring Bookman who had no name of his own, just aliases that he lived with. Back when I was someone who didn't care about human nature or the people around him until he met Allen Walker. Back when I was someone who…" I drift off here, because I don't want to tell Allen yet that I was someone who couldn't let go of his forty-ninth alias because that's the name that his lover would use to call him by. I don't want him to know that I loved him back then more than I cared about Gramps's wrath and becoming the Bookman's successor.

If I tell Allen all that now, I'll only crush my chances even faster than I already have.

Still, those things are the truth. And someday, I'll tell every last thing to him.

But not today.

"Yes," he replies hazily after my thoughtful pause. "Yes, I remember a few things, like there being a nameless old man with you that hit you on the head sometimes. And I remember…" Something dawns on Allen as he says this, a flickering trace of an epiphany shining in his eyes. "I remember. That means.. you're not as off your rocker as I thought. Because I… I remember you being that way. I don't know how, and I can't wrap my mind around why, but I can see it. I can see all sorts of things, like monsters being destroyed by our hands, and teary-eyed smiling faces of people I've saved, and my own blood spilling on my hands afterwards. Oh, my God… it's terrifying, but there. Not much, but some of it. The major pieces."

But apparently not major enough that you remember how much we were in love. Or, at the very least, how much I loved you.

He shakes his head and sinks down onto the floor, his back resting against the side of his mattress. "This is a lot to take in. I'm overwhelmed, but I believe you now. Timcanpi's recordings were enough to trigger…" He falls short of thought and shakes his head again, his hands fisting up in his shaggy hair. "Oh, man. Oh, God. It's so unreal. This is so terribly unreal. I mean, I'm _remembering _shit from a completely different lifetime! This is… trippy. And impossible."

"Only improbable," I correct as I plop down beside him and hold back a huge smile. The fact that this was so easy both makes me feel euphoric and panicked at the same time. I'm glad that Allen is remembering bits and pieces, but I'm also nervous. What if it's a bad sign instead of a good one? What if it means that something bad is about to happen, and he needs his memory to deal with it? I just don't know; it seems pretty sketchy to me. But I could be over thinking it; I tend to do that often. But I _am_ the reincarnation of a genius, so what can ya do?

Allen peers over at me and gives me an up-down scan. His eyes shake a bit as he looks over every inch of my face. "I can't decide on whether or not I should punch you or thank you for this mess, Lavi."

"Both should suffice," I laugh apologetically.

"If you say so," he responds as he whacks me on the arm. I flinch and rub the sore spot as he tells me, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, I guess."

Allen reclines into the side of his bed and stretches his legs out in front of him. "Timcanpi, what else do you have on there that you can show me? I want to see what else I don't remember. Give me any piece you can find; I need to know what kind of person I used to be."

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[7]_  
_.Jarring Jubilance._


	7. Jarring Jubliance

**A/N: I'm posting two shorter chapters at once, and then, I'll post an extremely long chapter that might take me a while to write. The long chapter, obviously, would be chapter nine. And the two shorties are obviously this one (seven) and the next (eight). So enjoy what I have for you now, and be in anticipation for the longer chapters to come. **

**Wait, did I accidentally slip that chapter ten will be long as well? Oopsie! Shh, pretend you didn't hear that. Or, rather, pretend you didn't read it. ;)**_  
_

* * *

_[7]_  
_.Jarring Jubilance._

"It's still hard to believe that all these things happened," Allen laments to me the following day at his house. "I mean, memories are supposed to be malleable and susceptible to corruption, as facts have proven this thrice times over through eyewitness testimony in court cases and neurological studies in science. But… video evidence from Timcanpi paired with my own fuzzy memories tells me that it has to be all true. I feel like it can't be, but it is all true, isn't it?" he mumbles with a baffled expression on his face.

I can tell that he's very jarred by this whole ordeal. I was, too, in the beginning. The depressing thing is, I didn't have someone else to talk to about it when I my memories first started to return to me. But he has me, and I'm overjoyed to be of service.

"Yes, it truly happened; every moment lived and every word spoken," I emphasize with a chilly bite of ice cream filling my mouth.

In front of us, Oprah Winfrey talks to some pregnant teenaged girl with herpes, although the volume is too low for me to hear what she's saying. But soon Allen flips the channel again, this time a Nickelodeon cartoon coming on the screen. It looks like either Mucha Lucha or El Tigre, but I can't be sure. They're drawn in the same style and both are very uninteresting to me, which makes it so that I don't know the difference between the characters of either cartoon.

"So let me get this straight," Allen clarifies around a mouthful of Mint Meltaway ice cream covered in whip cream, "I used to be an Exorcist, which is someone who slays demons in order to save others?"

"Correct," I say with an exaggerated wave of my spoon. I scrape the last of the ice cream soup from the bottom of my bowl and slurp it up. The spoon makes a clinking noise as I plop it into the empty bowl. "And I was one as well, although I also had another job to do –"

"Which was to observe and record; I know," he retorts. He shovels in another bite and changes the channel once more. "But what I don't understand is this: why was my arm a weapon while yours was an object?"

"You had a parasitic weapon," I answer. "All anti-Akuma weapons are made of Innocence, which is a powerful substance we needed to collect before the Earl did, lest we wanted it's power to fall into the wrong hands. Now, there are two types of innocence: parasitic and nonparasitic. Yours was pretty much born into your body, dormant inside of your demented left arm. But when you were a child, your adopted father Mana died, and you were so mournful that the Earl visited you. He tried to make a deal with you like he does everyone else. But Mana's love and care for you followed him past death, so he couldn't hurt you or let you go through with the deal. He told you to kill him, and cursed you. Your arm was activated, your hair turned albino-white, and Mana's Akuma skeleton was destroyed."

He sits in silence for a minute, tears glazing over his eyes. "Vaguely, I remember that pain. It was a burden I carried with me for the rest of my life."

I nod solemnly. "Yes, I know."

He looks up form his now empty ice cream bowl. "But how _do_ you know any of this? It's not o Timcanpi's hard drive, and even I don't remember it well."

"You told me the story yourself," I reply as I shift my weight uncomfortably. I stretch out one leg and rest my elbow on the knee of the other. "I told you, we used to be very close friends."

"I get that much, but exactly how close were we? That story about Mana doesn't sound like someone I would tell someone willy-nilly."

I chew on my lower lip. How can I get myself out of this one? Yesterday, I had to explain all sorts of things while Timcanpi played videos, but none of those things included my previous relationship with Allen. Today's Monday, after school hours for both Allen and I. We've known each other for four days now, and it feels like we've been spending every day together. It's not something that usually happens between two people who meet at a party. If Allen realized this and found out about our past bond, what would he think?

"We were the best of friends," I reply smoothly. "Technically, I wasn't supposed to have friends whatsoever –"

"I got that from the recordings Timcanpi showed me last night after you left; many of them featured Bookman lecturing you."

"– But you were my exception. I, uh, cared a lot about you. You were different than everyone else." I can feel my cheeks heating up, because this statement is still true. There is no one else I the world like Allen, and there never will be unless he's reincarnated again.

He clenches his fist. "You mean I was a freak. There isn't video evidence of it, so I know that what I'm feeling right now is a memory: there were times when I hated myself. I hated my arm, I hated my eye, and I hated everyone who looked at me funny because of my hair and scar." He pauses. "But… I remember something else: you in the middle of the hate, telling me that I was perfect the way I was, because it's what made me who I used to be." Allen stares at me a moment. "You were a good friend to me, Lavi. It feels like I always came to you if I wanted to be cheered up, and you came to me if I needed to be but didn't want to come out of my hiding place."

"It's true," I murmur. "I told you that I cared about you."

He doesn't seem to be hearing me right now, though. He's much too deep in thought. "And I remember Linalee coming through for me a couple times, but not as much as you did. Man, I never knew anyone could have a friend like that; it seems so far-fetched."

"But it's not!" I burst out. "There are plenty of people in the world who are willing to do whatever it takes to see the people they care about smile again! Some people, when they find each other, are meant to be bonded together for as long as they live. I used to not think so, because there were so many things telling me that humans were vile liars and selfish, greedy beings, but they aren't. Not all of them, anyway."

Allen's absorbed. I can see it on his face as I pull out of my miniature speech and look him in the eye. I can tell that he totally gets it, and can hear the heartfelt sentiments in my voice. He nods once as a smile tugs on his lips. "I think that was the most philosophical thing I've ever heard besides fortune-cookie sayings based off of Confucius's philosophies."

"Yeah, well…" I reply embarrassedly as I scratch at my ear, "I have my moments." Clearing my throat, I change the topic. "If you don't mind my asking, Allen, I'd like to know: have you ever met a man in this life by the name of Malcolm C. Levrier?"

He cocks his head. "Why do you ask?"

"He was the top dog of the Black Order; we all took orders from him. He was sent to Headquarters by the administration at the Vatican, but you don't need to worry about that. The point is, I didn't like him; he gave me bad vibes, so I want to know if he's lurking around in this world as well," I explain.

Allen's face scrunches in thought, and for a minute, all I can think about is how cute he is when he does that. I wish I could grab his cute little cheeks like I used to…

"There is one man by that name that I know of," he says.

I snap out of my thoughts. "Really? What does he do, and what does he look like?"

"I've never seen him, but I've heard his name on the school announcements lately. They say that he's the Head of our school district's Board of Education, and that he's going to visit our school soon. A few of the seniors say that he's a real hard-ass about rules."

"Yep, that sounds like him," I sigh forlornly. "Damn, and here I was hoping that I didn't have to worry about that guy. He's the one who made Link keep an eye on you, after all…"

"Link? You meant that guy that Timcanpi would help me hide from in the recordings?" Allen questions.

I nod.

"Tch, that sucks. I hope I don't have to deal with another scenario like that; I might go mad," he snorts.

But at least he doesn't have to worry about the ghost of the fourteenth. Wait, who? Hmm, must be a new memory… What's it about, and what does it sound familiar? Fourteenth, fourteenth… something about Noahs and the Ark come to mind. And something about Allen confiding in solely me about some specter he was seeing…

"Hello, Lavi? I called your name three times!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. My mind wandered for short while there. What were you saying?" I answer as I hold a hand to my dizzy head. Ouch… it hurts when I try to dig too deeply into a memory.

"I asked if you wanted to play a video game," Allen replies airily. He blinks once. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, yeah! I'm fine, honest. I'm just a spacey guy, that's all! So, what games do you have?" I ask as I shove my ice cream bowl aside and scoot closer to him and his television set.

But Allen's not buying the false expression of stability on my face. "Maybe this should wait until tomorrow," he says slowly. "You're obviously lying to me, Lavi."

"How would you know when I'm lying? You've only been around me for four days," I grumble, the dizzying headache in my skull making me a tad irritable.

Allen crooks an eyebrow. "Look, when you smile like that, I know that you're putting on a façade. I know you, Lavi, even if it's only been four days in this lifetime. I've seen enough videos and remembered enough to recognize when you're lying. And since you're my friend, I feel obligated to make sure that you're healthy." He stands up and pulls me to my feet. "Therefore, I'm kicking you out. You're going home and going to sleep. You don't look good."

Frankly, I don't feel good. But it's only five o'clock, and I want to spend more time with Allen…

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he says as he follows me down the stairs. I hop into my shoes as Allen leans on the doorway. "Take some medicine and then lay down for a nap."

"Good old Allen, always thinking of others," I tease lazily as I open his front door. I sway a bit on my feet, and Allen launches forward to steady me. I flush, the sensation of his arms around me and his body heat against my back bringing forward a ton of lecherous memories. I swallow, as if to suppress them.

"Easy, Lavi." Allen murmurs in my ear. He sets me upright, concern written across his face. "Maybe I should drive you home and you can pick up your truck tomorrow…"

"Nah, I'll be all right," I tell him as I gently shrug him off. "See ya, Allen."

He sighs in defeat. "See you, Lavi."

And then I shut the door behind me, not daring to look back lest I want another dizzy spell.

o0-0o

"Get up, lazy ass. Someone's on the phone for you. A boy named Alan or something," my grandfather's college-professor-like tone of voice chants above my head.

I stir into semi-consciousness and take the phone from him. As the old geezer walks away, I hear, "Lavi? Lavi, is that you? Did I wake you up?"

The new voice against my ear suddenly matches the vaguely given name, and I shoot up into sitting position. "Allen, hi! Yeah, it's me. And no, you didn't wake me up."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, totally," I reply as I rub my eyes and ruffle my hair. It feels a little greasy, like it needs to be washed. I smile. "Did you call just to check up on me?"

"Does it matter?" he retorts a bit defensively. "Besides, it's the considerate thing to do, especially after I was the one to kick you out."

"I think it does matter," I smirk as I stand up and stretch my sleepy limbs. I had obeyed Allen by taking medicine and going to bed directly afterwards. Luckily, Gramps wasn't home to question why. "I think you're calling me now 'cause you _really_ care about me. Don't you, Allen?"

"Shut up, Lavi. You're tired and don't know what you're saying," my friend harrumphs from the other end of the line.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I sigh as I scratch my leg. It's really itchy near my ankle for some reason. "Anyway, did you watch any more of Tim's recordings?"

"Not really," Allen replies stiffly. "I don't want to rush re-experiencing an entire other lifetime. Would you?"

"You have a point."

"I'd rather ask you, anyhow. You seem to remember more than Tim as logged," he tells me. "So, um… I'd like to know: what was everyone else like?"

"Who do you want me to start with?"

"How about the first person we met together on a mission? Krory, I mean."

"Well, for starters, he had this lover named Eliade, who turned to be a real conniving bitch in the end, but poor Kro-chan didn't know that –"

"What did you just call him?"

I hesitate for a second. "I dunno. Something that sounded like an American fangirl's Wapanese nickname for him. I didn't mean it," I add quickly, "It just slipped out."

"Next thing you know, you'll be slipping from 'bean sprout' to 'moyashi'," Allen murmurs under his breath. He suddenly gasps. "Whoa. Weird."

"You're telling me."

Allen clears his throat. "Uh, so, about Krory…"

"Oh, right. Well, he had Innocence in his teeth, which he used to suck Akuma blood. Problem is, Akuma can look like people if they're in the right stage, so many people thought that Kro-ch– I mean Krory – was a real vampire. The ironic thing is, he looks like a classic vamp; he has the elongated canine teeth, the pointy facial features, the dark clothing, the slicked-back black hair with a white streak, and the curly sideburns. But he was a sweet guy underneath his rages during Akuma battle. He had a soft spot for Eliade, and was very kind to all of us at the Order," I explain. A yawn seeps out of my throat. "I wonder if he's like that now."

"Oddly enough, he is. He looks a bit vampire-ish without the fangs, and is widowed. He was married to a young woman named Eliade, but she died from a freak gas incident at the clinic she worked at. She was a blood-transfusion nurse. Which helped Mr. Krory, since he's anemic and sometimes, if he doesn't get enough iron and stuff, he needs to go in for a small transfusion. That's how he met her."

"How do you know all this?"

"He's my neighbor, Lavi; and he's merely twenty-seven years old, even if he looks older. I talk to him when I can, which isn't often since he's so hung up on Eliade. He hides out in his house with the curtains drawn, choosing to bask in the darkness during his mournful misery." Allen sighs into the phone. "I wish I could help him. He's a nice guy, but too depressed for his own good."

"Heh, sounds to me like he needs to meet Miss Lotto, one of my college professors. She used to be pretty depressed herself, until Linalee helped her. I bet she'd do Krory some good," I suggest heartily. "They both were such lonely people when we knew them in the past, so I think they deserve a chance to be less lonely here in the future." I can imagine a surprised look on Allen's face right about now.

"…Lavi, I think that's the most inventive idea I've ever heard you say."

"Why thank you, my _d_– friend." Oops, I almost said 'my dear'. I used to call him that a lot when we were together. My dear, my love, my sweet… girly things like that to make him blush and playfully shove me, or at the right times, earn me a kiss. I know because I've been dreaming about those moments a lot lately. I always dream of memories; I've not once ever dreamed of something that was relevant to the present. It's sort of annoying, actually.

"All kidding aside, it really is a good idea. Do you think we should organize a blind date for them?"

The mischievous grin is plainly heard in his tone. It makes me laugh. "Haha, YES! I say, why not? It'll be good for them. But they're both so polite that we might need to oversee the events and infiltrate if things get out of hand…"

"True," Allen agrees. "Hmm… how about we send Tim? He can keep an eye on them for us, and every so often he can report back."

"Nah, that might take too long; what if we miss our opportunity? Instead, we should tag along in secret. Maybe go to the same place and keep an eye on them. In fact, there's an Octoberfest carnival that'll be set up next week and will carry on into the following week; why don't we urge them to go there?"

There's a pause over the phone. "Are you suggesting that we, uh, go on a date to oversee a blind date?"

I freeze in place. Am I suggesting that? I mean, sure, a couple brief glimpses of me and Allen on a Ferris Wheel together and later walking down the river path with cotton candy in our hands flashed into my mind, but did I mean a real date? …No, I guess I didn't, but it doesn't hurt to try. "And what if I was? Would you turn me down?"

"Lavi, we're two guys…"

"Are you saying it'll look wrong? Come on, as far as anyone else can tell, we'd just be two friends having a good time at a festival together. There's no harm in that, right?" I cajole, hoping he'll take the bait. "Unless, you know, you're strictly straight, in which case I'll back off… I mean, you've asked me before if I was hitting on you, and I didn't deny it. But you didn't seem bothered by it, either, so I figured…"

I can imagine him shaking his head. "No, no, you're right; I'm not really… that is… I'm sexually confused at the moment, like every other teenager with hormones, so I thought that I wouldn't stop you unless I felt uncomfortable, which so far I haven't. Which means… I guess you have a date next week."

In the safety of my own mind, I yell 'FUCK YES!' at the top of my lungs. "Alright. Then you can talk to Krory and I'll talk to Miranda, and even if they say no, we can still go together, just the two of us. Sound good?"

"…Yeah, it sounds just fine."

There's a long pause, until I decide that it's about time we dismissed this phone call. "Well, I'll talk to you later, Allen. Maybe come over tomorrow and play video games like you said we could."

"Oh, right. Yeah, we can do that. Bye, Lavi."

"Bye-bye."

I have a good feeling about all of this. What was I thinking earlier, about Allen's returning memories being a bad sign? Man, I worry too much. I got to learn to relax and go with the flow. So far, it's working wonders for me.

* * *

_**Next chapter:**_

_[8]__  
__.Setting Up a Setup._


	8. Setting Up a Setup

**A/N: So here's the second chapter posted in a row, as promised. Enjoy~!**

**P.S.: You can all probably tell how exciting the next _muy largo capitulo_ (Spainish class is rubbing off of me, huh? Good thing the school year is nearly over!) is going to be.**

* * *

_[8]__  
__.Setting Up a Setup._

"Allen, you can't use cheat codes in the middle of a battle! That's… well, _cheating_!" I complain as I swing my controller all around as if it has motion sensor technology while pressing as many buttons as many times as I can. I'm usually good at Resident Evil games, but at the moment I'm growing desperate. And desperate times call for desperate, idiotic measures, don't they?

While Allen cackles at my poor zombie-fighting – oops, I mean 'the infected'-fighting – skills and cheers on his own victory, I lean in closer to him subtly, my shoulder touching his. Our knees bump for a second, and during on of my whacky movements, my thigh brushes against his. I pretend like it's natural, like we don't have a date planned for the upcoming week. But it's a hard thing to pretend when he's starting to lean into me a bit, too.

"_O contraire_," Allen replies with a fake French accent, "I can use cheat codes amidst battle. It's what I do."

"So it's no different than your card playing, huh?" I retort bitterly as my thumbs pounce on the X-button repeatedly.

My companion laughs again, so I automatically conclude that he's not denying it. Black Allen shows his face once again…

About twenty more minutes pass before I die yet again and throw down my controller with a frustrated grunt.

"What game shall we play next?" Allen smirks as he removes one of the Resident Evil games (I don't even know which one we were playing; it wasn't the first, because I've only ever played the first and that wasn't it). He places it in it's case and shuffles through a pile of his other PlayStation 2 disks.

"Maybe Call of Duty?" I suggest lamely as I flick the stubby joystick on my controller.

"Nah, war games can be too depressing. Let's try something else. Hmm… I'd suggest Kingdom Hearts, but it's only one-player." He tosses down a few more games, his lips pursed in thought. "Maybe we should bring out a classic? I have a GameCube in my closet and two of the Smash Bros games."

"Sounds fine to me," I shrug as I roll onto my back and stare up at his ceiling. There's a painting up there, with a creepy grinning moon and a dark purple-red sky with bleeding stars. It reminds me of the nightmares Allen would confide in me about. Something including ruins and water and a demonic ghost and Linalee…

Allen hooks up the GameCube and puts in one of the Super Smash Bros, which if you don't know is one of those games where you can be just about any character. Pikachu, Kirby, Link, Mario… the list goes on and on. You can even change their appearance; like a blue Kirby instead of a pink one, or an orange Mario. It's pretty funny, and while fighting you can do just about anything to anyone, so long as you don't fall off of whatever world you choose. Dying isn't an option in this multi-player game; you're supposed to fight until the last one standing, which would hopefully be your own character.

Reminds me of the good old days. Only in this game, the enemy is your fellow Nintendo characters instead of Akuma and Noahs and the Earl. To be honest, I prefer fighting the Nintendo enemies; they're much easier to beat than the dangers we were faced with, and when you do fight there's the plus side of not being mortally wounded.

"I call Link!" Allen said as soon as the 'choose your character' selection came onto the screen.

"That's fine; I want to be Bowser, anyway," I reply. I don't know why, but I like the giant turtle. Sure, he's a bit rough-looking and is always after Princess Peach, but he's so massive that he can run the smaller characters over.

"If you say so," Allen grins, but I don't like the look of his smile. It's much too playful.

Without warning, just as I have Bowser selected and am about to push 'continue', Allen reaches over me and clutches my hand. His hair whips in my face and blocks my sight, and for five whole Mississippi-length seconds I don't realize what he's doing until I notice that, as he pulls away, the screen is on the color-changing options, but Bowser isn't there. In his place is the lovely girl Zelda.

I shove his shoulder with the hand of mine that he grabbed and took control of. "No fair, Allen! You can't suddenly turn me into a girl!"

"Too bad, I just did," he said with a chuckle as he made Link's clothes red instead of green. I try to hit the back button, but every time I go to press it, Allen nudges me off-balance by bumping my knee with his. "Come on, it'll be funny! Besides, Zelda can transform; you'll have more power as her than you would as Bowser."

"Tch, I_ guess_ so," I grumble. It still feels uncomfortable knowing that I'm playing as a virtual figure with open clothing and jiggling breasts. Now that there's anything wrong with open clothing and jiggling breasts, but there _is _a problem with myself essentially being someone with such things. It knocks points off of my manly testosterone meter. **Ding, ding, ding;** there goes three hormones turned into XX instead of XY. _Great._

Bah, I can't make such a big deal out of this. Allen's just messing around. In fact, I should be glad that he's acting so comfortable with me; it shows real progress, I think.

"So," I begin as we're partway through the first round on a world setting that appears volcanic. "D'ya think we should get Linalee in on this? She's closer to Miranda than I am, and that way I'm free to help you with Krory."

It's an attempt at chance for me to spend more time with him, that's all. But it's also the truth; as natural as it was to talk to Miranda when we were both in the Black Order, it's a bit different now that she's my college teacher. It feels more awkward to talk her into a blind date when she lectures about English-related things day in and day out.

"It might help if a friend of Miss Lotto is the one who sets her up," Allen jokes. "Of 'course, it might also help if you come with me. Mr. Krory is… well, I'm not sure what to say about him, except that he's a sad man."

"Which is why we're trying to help the poor guy," I remind him as I attack one of the extra characters randomized by the machine; it happens to be Wario. I don't want to fight Al– I mean, Link – just yet.

"That's not what I mean, exactly," Allen sighs as his Link eliminates a random Kirby. Now there's only him, me, and Wario. "I mean that Mr. Krory is… difficult."

"Why? Because he's so heartbroken?"

"I'm not entirely sure… He's friendly enough, but his eyes are dim and his smiles never touch the corners of his eyes. And when I try to include him in something, he usually declines and turns into a hermit. So having you along would do some good; you're the type of person who breaks others out of their shells, aren't you?" Allen remarks as Wario is destroyed and he hits pause on the game.

He looks at me, and I can see a glimmer of something in his eyes. I smile minutely. "Yes, I am. Mainly because, in the past, I forced myself into coming out of my own shell… a shell formed by the ancient Bookman rules."

Allen looks down at his controller, his thumbs idly clicking buttons. "I remember something about that. Something small in size, but large in importance: you came to hate being a Bookman. I don't remember why, but I recall you telling me back then that you would do anything to be able to cast the rules aside. You wanted the freedom to be more… _human_."

I did it for you, Allen. I wish you could remember that. I said all those things because I was in love with you, and wanted to be free to carry out all the actions of love with you without consequence. I was a sappy romantic in that way. At least a figment of my forgotten sacrifice for you came to mind.

"Anyway…" Allen says softly after I don't respond. He starts the game again, his fingers forcing Link to come face Zelda. Two (supposed) lovers against one another, huh? Indirectly, the same thing is occurring in real life as well, although he doesn't realize it. "I think bringing Linalee into our plan is a great idea. We can call her after I kick your ass."

"Not unless I kick yours first!" I retort with a smirk as I come back into the present.

Link raises his sword, and charges forward. I transform Zelda and run blindly toward him as the timer at the top of the screen begins to count down the last thirty seconds of playing time. I beat the buttons on my controller madly in hopes of finding a combo that will wipe out the last of Link's health bar. But the little elf-looking boy is too fast, and all at once as the timer reads ten seconds remaining, Zelda falls to her knees and hangs her head, defeated. The screen freezes and the words, 'player two wins!' flash onto the screen in neon green.

"Now, what was it you said about kicking my ass?" Allen laughs as he nudges me with an elbow.

"I said that I would kick it before you could kick mine," I answer as I set down my controller and face him. Grinning, I inform him of a small fact: "But I never said that I meant only in the game."

And with this said, I launch myself at him, and wrestle him to the ground in a playful manner. His face turns pink from the blood rushing to his head as I pin him to the ground, my fingers wrapped around his wrists and my knees on either side of his thighs. Allen laughs and weakly struggles, but I have him down for the count. I've always been stronger than him when it came to one-on-one tackles. That is, I was stronger if he didn't use his left arm with full force; I was nothing compared to his Innocence.

A memory of a similar situation brings itself to the front of my mind…

"_Dammit, Lavi, it's my egg roll! You can't have it!" Allen said as he stifled laughter and held me back with one arm. He pushed me with his foot, too, but it wasn't of any use. I smirked and leaned into him more, pretending to reach for the food object in his opposite hand. But little did he know that in actuality I was trying to get closer to him. We weren't a couple yet, but I wanted to be. So every chance I got, I inflicted some sort of physical contact to gradually hint at my inner feelings._

"_But I want it~" I whined as I grabbed his wrist and stretched toward the egg roll. We paced backwards, doing a clumsy tango toward the wall. We were up in Allen's room; he had brought his lunch up in order to avoid the crowded cafeteria. I had followed, of 'course. I tagged along behind him often._

_Allen ran out of footing and bumped against the wall. His white hair spilled against the plaster like snow on a mountain cap. He kept the egg roll raised high, but I stopped aiming for it. Instead, I slammed my empty hand against the wall by his left shoulder and slipped the fingers of my right hand in between his. Then, slowly, I brought my lips to his and kissed him for the first time. We slid down the wall and he dropped the egg roll, and as his hands clasped around my neck, I knew that I wanted to be with him forever…_

…And it seems my want was granted, because here we are in another lifetime with another chance.

Shaking the flashback away, I pull up from my position above Allen before the past decides to repeat itself. I stand to full height and run my fingers through my hair. "So, um… how about some drinks? And then perhaps another round of Smash Bros?"

Allen's face is red, but I ignore it as I regain my composure. I have got to make it a priority not to flirt too heavily with him when we're alone. It can be dangerous for his memories. What if… what if he remembers something graphic the first time around? I would hate to know how he might react if, during some closeness or another, he recalls the fact that we've made love in the past. Yeah, that wouldn't necessarily be the best recollection of love to experience right off the bat.

"Sure," Allen replies quietly. He scrambles up from the floor and out of habit, brushes himself off. "What would you like?"

"Anything fizzing and so sugary that my teeth will rot out," I answer. I watch him walk ahead of me and turn down the stairs and head for the kitchen. I follow slowly, wondering what he's thinking at the moment.

Allen yanks open the refrigerator door and scans the contents before reaching in and bringing out a can of Mountain Dew. "Will this do?" he jokes as he offers it to me.

Taking it and popping it's top, I smile. "Yes, I'd say it'll do nicely." I slurp a bit of it, and already I can taste the sticky sugar and buzz-inducing caffeine within it. "When should we call Linalee?"

"I was thinking now would be a good time," Allen grunts as he twists the stubborn cap of a Gatorade. Chugging it, a few blue drops collect at his lips and slip down his chin. I look away.

"Okay. Want me to get the phone, then?"

"Mhm," he hums as he wipes his mouth. He must've been thirsty. "It's over there, on the coffee table."

I scoop up the little black cordless and push 'talk'. With a dial tone sounding in my ear, I begin dialing Linalee's number. One, two, three rings… then a voice answers. "Hello?"

I look at the phone for a second. Is there a speakerphone button on it? Ah, yes, there it is! I push the little button and as Allen comes to sit beside me on the couch, I greet the other voice. "Hey, Komui. Is Linalee available?"

"Of 'course she is! One second," he tells us, his voice booming on the speakerphone. He attempts to cover the mouthpiece, but we can still hear his voice through the muffled static. "LINA~! Oh, Linaaaleee! My little butterfly-honeybee! Lavi's on the phone for you!" There's a pause, in which Allen and I hear a light feminine voice reply with something. Then there are footsteps. "Although I think he's calling from Allen's house, because the caller ID said 'Walker'." Clearer sound is produced as Komui takes his hand off of the receiver and says, "Here she is, Lavi."

"Hi, Lavi," Linalee says, her voice clearly holding a smile. "Are you at Allen's house?"

Playing along, I chuckle and ask, "Yep, how'd you know?"

"My brother says the caller ID read, 'Walker' instead of the usual 'Deak' of your cell phone number." She giggles. "It's nice to know that you two are getting closer. I love it when my old friends get along with my newer ones."

I snort, my thoughts thinking of how closer we're getting.

"Hi, Linalee," Allen says softly to the phone between us.

"Oh! Hi, Allen," she greets. "Am I on speakerphone?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Sorry. I just thought it'd be easier if both of us could talk to you."

There is a shrug in her voice as she replies, "It's alright. I just wonder how much you heard my brother say."

Allen and I try to hold back our laughter. "Oh, we didn't hear a thing," Allen lies to her. "Lavi only out it on speakerphone after you said 'hi'."

"That's right," I agree. I sip at my Mountain Dew. "Anyway, we called for a reason, Linalee."

"It's about a plan we made," Allen chimes in.

"It's to help poor Mr. Krory and dear Miss Lotto," I add.

"Oh?" Linalee says, her interest clearly sparked. In the years that I've known her, she's always enjoyed playing matchmaker. And I must say, she makes a damn good Cupid. "And how might we do that?"

"We're going to set them up on a blind date!" I say cheerfully. I nudge Allen with my elbow and let him do the honors of explaining how.

"Lavi and I are going to talk to my neighbor, and we thought it only appropriate that you talk to Miss Lotto since you're a friend of hers. We were going to get them to go to the Octoberfest coming up in a week or so. It's the perfect place to lift their spirits, and get them to start up conversation easily. Don't you think so?"

"Yes! Yes, yes! Definitely," Linalee giggles in agreement. I can tell that she's already very optimistic about the possible results. "You know, I've been trying to get Miranda to date for a while now. Maybe this time she'll listen to me."

"It's worth a shot, don't you think?" I put in. "And even if it doesn't pan out, we can still go to the festival for the hell of it." I wink in Allen's direction upon saying this, and he glances down at his Gatorade. I love it that he's embarrassed.

"So… are you in, Linalee?" Allen ventures.

"Of 'course. I wouldn't miss an opportunity like this for the world. It'll be so much fun!" She pauses in thought. "Hmm, but when should we talk to Miranda and Mr. Krory?"

"I was thinking tomorrow; the sooner the better, right?" I inform her.

"Right," she agrees. "Tomorrow, then. It works out, because I was going to have Miranda over for dinner tomorrow anyway. I could bring it up over our meal."

"Perfect!" I grin. "This is going even better than I hoped. I just hope that old Arystar is cooperative."

"He will be," Linalee reassures. "I have faith in this situation. The two poor souls need someone, or at the very least, one good night out."

"I couldn't agree more," Allen grumbles. "My neighbor needs to get out of his house every once and a while. It's been years now; he has to move on unless he wants to die alone."

"Allen, that's kinda mean," Linalee pouts over the phone.

"Maybe a little, but it's the truth," Allen retorts. "I mean, I wouldn't want to live my life like that! Even if someone I deeply loved were to die, I couldn't stand being unhappy for the rest of my life. Plus, I think whoever I loved would want me to be happy, even if it meant that I had to be with someone else." He hesitates. "And if it were vice versa, then my feelings would still be the same."

I turn to stare at Allen for a long moment. He has a point. I might be greedy and a bit selfish at times, but even dead I wouldn't want Allen to mope about me for the rest of his life. I would want him happy. Even deceased, I wouldn't want to be a barrier around Allen's wellbeing. To know that he agrees somehow makes me feel better about an unresolved issue from my past.

"Wow, Allen," Linalee says softly, "That's deep."

Next to me, he shrugs. "It's simply my thoughts on death and love. And with deep subjects come deep thoughts, you know?"

I smile as Linalee says, "True, but that doesn't make it any less impressive."

"Although…"

"What, Lavi?" Linalee asks.

I look at Allen for a brief second before directing my answer at the cordless phone. "…I might not be able to move on, depending on how much I loved that person and how long I was with them."

"Mm," Linalee hums, "That's also true. But in Krory's case, he wasn't married to her that long, and hasn't known her that long, either. It was more or less a lasting crush that he rushed into marriage for."

Allen nods. "Yeah, I know what you mean. He invited me to the wedding, and I could see that. He dated her for, what, about a year? And then he proposed to her. He has a lot of money, and I think she wanted to take advantage of it, because after they moved in together she started buying a lot of things. She wasn't that nice to other people, either."

"You mean, she was a bitch?" I say casually around another sip of soda.

Allen squirms. "Basically, yes. Eliade was manipulative, and even my uncle tried to tell Krory that. But he wouldn't listen to us, because he was blinded by his puppy love for her."

"That's almost… _sad_," Linalee whispers sympathetically.

"It is sad," Allen nods. "And that's why I want to help him now."

I can tell that Linalee is even more on board now that she was a moment ago. "You're absolutely right. He needs it, so I'm going to do my best to get Miranda on this blind date."

And with that, our setup is fully set up. "That's the spirit!" I laugh. "Thanks, Linalee."

"No problem," she answers.

"Goodbye!" Allen says into the phone as he takes it off speaker.

I slip it out of his hand and murmur a second goodbye prior to hanging up. Once Linalee is gone, I turn to Allen. "Shall we go upstairs and continue our game?"

"Let's," he smiles.

"Only this time," I add as I stand up from the couch, "Let me pick my own character."

He laughs. "I will… if you beat me to the room."

"You're on."

"Ready, set… go!"

We race up the stairs, shoving and bumping each other against the walls, trying to scramble to keep up or get ahead.

But I make it into the room first.

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[9]__  
__.Of Licorice Kisses._


	9. Of Licorice Kisses

**A/N: WHOO! FINALLY! This chapter is done, ohmigod! It's a good 10,400 words, which is approximately twice as long as I have been doing, so YA'LL BETTER ENJOY IT! D:**

**So, um... this chapter contains so much fluff your teeth will probably rot out and your brain will melt from happiness.  
Except... YOUR EYES WILL FALL OUT OF YOUR SOCKETS AT THE TWIST AT THE END.  
Because none of you knew it was going to happen. But I did.**

* * *

_[9]__  
__.Of Licorice Kisses._

Reever and Johnny briefly pass me while I trek across campus. They wave and say a quick 'hi' before continuing on to their next class. I return the gesture, but only half-mindedly. The majority of my mind is planning ways to talk Krory into going on a blind date. If he's anything like the lovesick Kro-chan – dammit, there I go again! – that I used to know, then Allen and I have out work cut out for us. But, then again, it was Miranda in the past who helped ease him out of his shell, so hopefully she can do it again. Allen helped as well, except in a different way. And I hardly helped, which is why I want to be of more use this time around. I like Kro-ch– I mean Krory. He's my friend, despite the time gap that separates us from the past and present.

I my last class will start in ten minutes. I can't wait for it to be over, though. I want to see Allen. It's funny, because even though I've been seeing him every day lately, I still crave more. My obsession knows no bounds, I suppose.

When I arrive to class, I spot Tyki saying something to the teacher. He glances my way out of the corner of his eye, and acid spitfire shivers trail down my spine. I know he's a different person now – we all are as reincarnates – but I still can't help but feel hatred towards him. He would be a cool guy if not for all the awful things I remember him doing, like nearly killing Allen (on more than one occasion).

As Tyki walks by me during his exit, he flashes me a corrupt-looking smile, his tan skin and dark chocolate hair blurring in my vision as I force back the urge to punch his lights out. It's wrong to hate someone who's grown up outside the influence of the Earl, but something in my mind still registers him as one of the Earl's "children".

Shaking my head of thoughts, I resume making my way to my seat and prepare myself for another note-taking-required lecture on some lesson or another.

o0-0o

"Mahh, Allen," I whine as I drift in through his front door and collapse into his arms. "I'm wiped. College was especially tiring today. Can we relax today and bother Krory tomorrow instead?"

He sighs exasperatedly and whacks me on the back of the head like my grandfather sometimes does. I hold the newly formed lump as Allen reprimands me, "No, we need to do this_ today_, Lavi. We can't sit back and let him mope forever, can we? So grab one of my uncle's Monster energy drinks from the fridge and let's go. After we're done, you'll have time to rest, I promise."

"Okay, okay," I grumble as I walk over to his kitchen to obey. It's warm today for October, and the cooling rush of refrigerator air aids in refreshing me. I pop open the top of the tall, green-and-black can and take a swig. The energy drink tastes strange, like all energy drinks do, but I'm too worn out to care. I sip at it some more and as a last-minute thought, return to the fridge to take one more Monster for the road.

We walk across Allen's yard and into Krory's, which looks a bit unattended. There are deceased summer dandelions white and puffy and brown-stemmed everywhere, poking up out of the shaggy, dull green grass. I glance around unsurely, wondering precisely how depressed this new version of my old vampiric pal is.

"Uh, Allen?" I inquire as I step around a thorny weed, "Is he really so deep in the hole that he can't even dig his own yard out?"

"Apparently he is," Allen sighs dejectedly. "Come on, we better use the sidewalk."

We cross over to the pathway that leads up to the entrance of Krory's home. As we hop up the steps onto his front porch, I chug the remainder of my first Monster and prepare to open the second. I crumple the empty can and toss it off to the side. Allen glares at me, but I remind him that Krory won't care. Plus, I could always pick it up later. He sighs and I start to bounce impatiently on my heels. Already the caffeinated, sugary juices are flowing through my body. I straighten myself t full height and blink away the tired feeling surrounding my eyes. "Alright, let's do this," I say as I knock on the front door.

After a minute or two, there's a shuffling noise and a small groan of protest. The door opens, and a low, desperate voice begins, "I don't pay tribute to solicitors –" but Krory buts himself off as he sees Allen and I standing before him. "Oh… Hello, Allen Walker. Vhat brings you here today?"

"I'd like to have a word with you, sir," Allen says in the most polite tone I've ever heard escape his lips. He's smiling, too, in that innocent way. "May we come in?"

Krory offers a smile of his own, but it's small and sad. "But of 'course. I vust made tea, too."

He steps aside and as we walk in, he tells us to take off our shoes. We do, and in the dimly lit home I can make out pictures of a smiling couple, and a kitten or two.

Krory hands Allen a cup of tea and murmurs something to me about not getting me any because he noticed the Monster that I'm holding. He goes on to ask, "Allen, is zis friend of yours named Lavi?" as he sits us down in the living room. Everything is decorated like an old classy Transylvanian castle, minus the doom and gloom. But it makes sense that it looks this way, seeing as how this Krory holds a slight Romanian accent in his voice, thankfully one that isn't as thick and heavy as the cheesy Dracula in old movies. It's amusing, though, to hear all his 'th's as 'z's, and all his 'f's and beginning 'w's as 'v's. I should try talking like that some time. _Come here, my pet; I vust vant to suck your blood…_

Allen drags me out of my thoughts. "…Yes, he is. How did you know?" he supplies as his answer, although his tone is mystified. I'm pretty shocked myself.

"I'm not sure," Krory replies. "He vust seems like a 'Lavi' to me."

Allen gives me a questionable look. With his eyes, he's asking me how this is possible. I shrug. Turning to Krory, I wonder aloud, "Do you believe in past lives?"

He nods vigorously. "Indeed I do. I've always toyed wiz ze idea zat Eliade and I vound each ozer vrom anozer lifetime." His face turns a bit teary-eyed at the mention of his late spouse, and his cheeks flush a bit. Then he leans in towards us and asks softly of me, "Why do you ask?"

It's strange, looking him full in the face. Unlike Allen's slightly altered appearance, his face and hair are exactly the same. It's like déjà vu all over again. I set down my Monster and swallow by means of clearing my throat. "Well, Mr. Krory, I was wondering if you'd believe me when I told you that you remembered my name from a past life."

Krory takes a minute to absorb this as he reclines back into the loveseat across from us. "It's certainly possible," he mutters. "It vould explain how I knew your name right avay."

"So you believe me, then?" I ask hopefully.

He smiles again, this time with a bit more light in his eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Awesome! That makes what Allen and I have to say a little easier, then," I grin. I look to Allen. "Should I bring it up, or should you?"

"I will," Allen tells me.

"Bring up vhat?" Krory frowns, small wrinkles pinching in the brows of his pale face.

"Krory," Allen says slowly, "We'd like you to meet someone at the Octoberfest this weekend."

His frown deepens. "In vhat vay? Are you trying to set me up on a blind date?"

I bite back a chuckle at his bluntness. Allen recomposes his face to most likely do the same. "In a manner of speaking, yes," he says sheepishly.

I interject to add, "She's a lovely woman, though. You'll recognize her the same way you recognized me. Does the name Miranda Lotto ring any bells?"

"Yes, but zat's beside ze point! Allen, you know zat I don't date –"

Allen silences him with a shake f his head and a wave of his hand. "I know, I know, but you're almost twenty-eight, Krory… how long were you planning on being alone? You're my neighbor, and my friend, and I don't like seeing you miserable. So please… go on this one date, and if it doesn't work out, you don't have to try again. Okay?"

Krory looks between us a moment, then sighs through his nose. "How come I get ze veeling zat you two have done zis to me bevore?"

I grin wickedly. "Because we have. We've talked you into a lot of things in the past," I relay honestly. Allen sends me another frowning glance, but I ignore it. "So what d'ya say? Will you go out with Miranda or not?"

"I zink I have no real choice in ze matter," he tells us with a defeated sigh and slouch of his shoulders. "Vhich, in short, means I'll do it."

"Yes!" I cheer and offer Allen a high five. He declines it to look at Krory for a lasting moment.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? You're not mad, are you?"

Krory chuckles breathily, which must be the first time in ages because Allen grows puzzle-faced. "No, I'm not mad. It's a comvort, actually. It's nice to know zat I have friends who still care."

"Of 'course we do, buddy," I grin. "You might not remember it, but we have history together. And plenty of it."

"Really?" he poses with a quirk of his eyebrow. "And vhat happened in zat lifetime?"

I wince involuntarily. I shouldn't get too specific about it to him; at least, not now. "Er, well, nothing that didn't involve at least a little bit of pain," I say gently. "But every life has that, doesn't it?"

Glumly, the older man nods in agreement. "Too true, Lavi. Too true."

We sit and chat with dear Arystar for a good hour after that, but at a certain point the tea runs dry and the conversation thin, and we decide to leave the poor fellow alone. So we say our goodbyes and, walking out into a steadily setting, orange sun, we head back to Allen's.

I grin broadly, and can't help but to burst into laughter as we walk up his stairs. "Wow! We did it, Allen! We actually got the ol' recluse to go along with our plan! This is awesome!"

Allen offers a small smile in return. "I'm just glad that I could help him out a little. He really needs it."

Still smiling, I clamp my hand on Allen's shoulder as we stop in front of his bedroom door. With a warm tone, I tell him, "You've always been like that, Allen: desperate to assist others, and caring deeply for them as you struggled. It's one of the things I admire about you."

He flushes a bit and waves my hand away. "Yeah, well, I'm not trying to be a martyr or anything; I just want everyone to have a small taste of happiness, since I myself don't always have it's flavor in my mouth."

My eyes soften and my smile droops upon hearing this. Allen slides past me and enters his room in silence while I stand here a minute to think. Is he saying that he's not always happy? But why not? As far as I can tell, he has a much better lifestyle in this life than he did in his first life.

"Allen," I call as I turn around and follow him into his room. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why aren't you happy? I mean, no one can be content all the time, but…"

Allen grunts as he falls onto his back on his bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he shakes his head and drapes an arm over his eyes. "It's nothing, Lavi. Really. I meant what you just said: no one is happy all the time, including me."

Frowning stubbornly, I come over to sit on the side of his bed. "That's a lie, Allen, and I know it. You meant something else. What is it?"

He remains silent, the shallow breathing from his nose being the only soft sound he's making.

My frown deepens with concern. I lean over, my hand on the mattress next to Allen's left side to stabilize me. With my free hand, I pull his right arm from his face. His eyes flutter open and stare up at me in light confusion. "Come on, Allen," I murmur, "Tell me what you're thinking of right now."

He slips his arm from my grip and looks away. "Right now, I'm thinking that you should go home. I'm tired."

"Another lie," I sigh as I reluctantly lean back up and glance down at him. "You're not tired, you're just trying to push me away. You've done it before, you know."

"I don't doubt it," he snorts. "You seem like the persistent type."

"And I am," I say without a hint of shame. "Which would make you the resistant type."

"…Just what do you want me to say, Lavi? Do you want me to spill my entire heart out after such a weird afternoon?" Allen poses as his blue-grey eyes finally return to my face.

I smile compassionately at him. "No, Allen. I only want you to share whatever's bothering you in this very moment."

He sighs, but it sounds like the kind one would make when one prepares to say something very personal. "Fine, you win. I'll tell you." Allen forces himself into sitting position and runs a hand through his mousy brown hair. "I was thinking about how similar my life is to how it used to be. You don't know this, but I did have a father before I came to life with his stepbrother, my only living relative. My father's name was Mana. He looks just like me, too. Same brown hair, same dark blue eyes… my mother died in child birth because she was too frail to handle it, so he was all I had. But one night when I was six he swerved to miss hitting a doe, and crashed into a streetlight post. I was the one to yelled to him that he was going to hit a doe. I startled him, and because of me, he's dead. Just like the Mana that took care of me in my past life, the Mana in this one also died." He shakes his head in disgrace and curls in on himself. Instinctively, I reach out and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He continues with a wavering voice, "I saw in Timcanpi's recordings that I had a scar like this one when Mana died back then. But this time around, I have this scar because of that accident… but I don't know why it's in a perfect pentacle-and-lightning-bolt shape. It doesn't make any sense." He breathes out slowly and raises his head. There are no tears on his face, but his eyes are red. "Lavi… I still get nightmares. I wake up and feel so terribly lonely, because the nightmares are of Mana's death over and over again. The last thing he said to me before the ambulance came was, 'Don't blame yourself. I love you, son.' And every time I hear him say this, and every time I see people drowning in loneliness, it hurts me. That's why I needed to help Krory ad Miranda. That's why, I think, I was so drawn to you when we met…" He drifts off in confusion and thought, and I'm left rubbing his shoulder to soothe him.

"I understand, Allen," I tell him wholeheartedly. "More than you realize."

"Thank you," he says so softly that I almost don't catch him saying it. "You're a wonderful friend."

"I could be more than your friend, you know," I whisper under my breath. He doesn't hear me. And if he had heard it, he isn't saying anything. Louder, I remind him, "I'll always be here for you, Allen. If there's anything else you want to tell me, or if there's ever anything you need… just tell me. I can't always guess or read minds, though, so you're going to have to tell me."

He breathes out shortly, as if he's laughing. "I know."

"Well, at least that much is clear," I sigh helplessly. I lean off of him a bit so not to suffocate him. "Um, so… do you still want me to go home?"

Allen peers over his arms and slowly shakes his head. "Can you spend the night?"

The request catches me off-guard. But fuck, I can't resist an offer like that, especially not when Allen needs me. "Of 'course I can!" I answer immediately. "I'll just call my grandpa and tell him that I'm not coming home. He won't care."

Allen smiles minutely. "Thanks again."

I shrug. "It's nothing, man. Like I said, I'm here for you."

o0-0o

It's funny how quickly time can pass when you're not paying much attention to it. When you agonize over how many minutes are left until school is out, or how many days until your next doctor appointment, it makes time move at a rate you're not comfortable with. But if you simply sit back, relax, and pay it no mind, time tends to move as fast as you subconsciously want it to.

The night I slept over at Allen's was days ago, and I'm a bit disappointed to say that it wasn't like the sleepovers I've had with him back at the Order. When we were Exorcists, nights that we spent together were warmer, in the sense that we shared the bed and snuggled up to one another. Obviously Allen wasn't too secure with that idea this time around, so I slept on the floor. Floors are hard no matter how many pillows and blankets you put down, and they are freezing compared to the warmth of another human body. But what cha gonna do? I didn't want to fluster the hell out of him, so I said nothing and set up camp beside his bed.

Aside from all of that, today is the big day. It's Saturday, the day we planned for the 'double date' (since we'll be keeping an eye on Kro-chan and Miranda) at the Octoberfest in town. It's set up like a big outdoor trading center, where there are booths upon booths of things to buy, things to eat, and things to drink. Included in this mess by the river pier is a small carnival, with booths for games, contests, and rides. They even have a Ferris Wheel, a nice-sized one, that I fully intend to get my first kiss with Allen from. A bit cliché of a hope, perhaps, but romantic nonetheless. And in this lifetime, I want as much romance as possible; I was gypped last time around by imminent threats like Akuma, Noah, and the Millennium Earl.

Rounding up my clothing choice for the day, I head into the bathroom for a deep-cleansing shower. I want to smell my best, and look my best.

The water is scorching hot on my flesh, but I can feel the overnight grime melting away, the oils on my skin dripping off and washing down the drain like blood being washed from my hands. No, I can't think of horrific memories like that; not right now. Not when I'm three hours from what I feel will be the happiest night of my life.

I take down my body wash – which isn't Axe like every other guy out there, thank you – and rub it into a clean washcloth. I lather the soapy cloth over my skin, arms, legs, torso, back. The scent of oranges and ginger spice and something musky wafts up to my nose from the soapy wash. It smells good; it smells like me, or what I've come to think of as my scent. But after tonight, I'll no doubt smell like frosted fallen leaves and burning wood mixed with carnival food smells, like popcorn and hotdogs. Still, both combinations of scent are appealing in their own way.

I reach next for my shampoo, something of the Head and Shoulders variety since my grandfather gave me the terrible gene of dandruff. But after years of using the blue gunk, my dandruff is gone. It simply takes repeated use of the shampoo and conditioner to keep the dandruff warded off. But the variety I buy smells pleasant as well, something akin to freshly chipped ice that mellows out into a clean smell when my hair dries.

After the shampoo is worked in and rinsed out, I reach for the conditioner. But there's suddenly a knock at the bathroom door. "Come in," I answer, my voice rebounding off of the tiled walls of the bath-and-shower combo stall.

"That Walker boy is here, something about wanting to come early to talk to you. Should I make him wait in your room for you?" my grandfather informs me, his rugged, raspy voice passing in one ear and out the other as soon as I heard the name 'Walker'.

"Wh-what?" I sputter as I yank back the shower curtain and gape at my grandfather.

He glances up at the ceiling to roll his eyes at me. "Cover yourself, please. It would be a shame if the guest walked up here at this very moment and lost his eyeballs from the sight."

It's then that I realize that the door is wide open behind the old man. Grumbling to myself, I grab a piece of the curtain and angle it so that it covers my lower half. I glare at my last living relative as water seeps down my back and the cool air from the hallway sends a discreet shiver down my legs. "Yeah, I guess he can wait in my room. I have everything I need in here." I sigh. "And be nice to him, okay? Offer him something to drink or something."

My grandpa turns around and begins to walk out the door. "I still don't see why you're getting all spiffed up to go to that Octoberfest thingamajig. Unless…" he says as he pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder at me with a smirk on his dry lips, "Miss Lee is going to be there, and you want to impress her?"

I roll my eyes and return the shower curtain to it's proper place. I again reach for the conditioner. "No, you perverted old coot. My crush on her ended in my junior year. Besides, I don't know if she's going to be there. And if she is, I hope Kanda takes her, because heaven knows those two need some time together." It's mostly a lie; I know she's going to be there since, after calming down and calling Linalee during our little sleepover, Allen and I found out that Miranda was more than happy to oblige (she was feeling lonelier than we thought), but wanted Linalee to lag behind for moral support. But we all know that, with or without an invitation from Miranda, Linalee was going to go anyway to make sure our plan proceeded nicely, and to enjoy herself at the festival.

Once my grandpa is out of the bathroom, I finish up my shower with more haste and jump out. I dab dry my soaking wet body (which feels terribly cold now that I'm out of the steaming-hot water) and wrap my shaggy hair into a towel-turban to dry and stay out of my way while I apply some lotion. Normally I skip the towel step because it seems a bit… woman-like… but I need my hair to dry as fast as possible, so wringing it out seems logical enough to me.

My lotion is relatively scentless and immensely gloppy. I hate it so much. But my grandfather says that it'll help stop any rough, dry calluses from forming, and will stop wrinkles form appearing prematurely. Part of my wonders if that's because this damn lotion is part sun block. It probably is. After all, it does have the vague scent of bananas if I sniff closely…

With the lotion rubbed in and my skin feeling a tad sticky, I put on some deodorant and hop into my boxers. The jeans are harder to get on, because the lotion keeps sticking to the denim, but after a while the charcoal pants are on and I'm ready for my shirt. It's weird seeing myself shirtless in the mirror above the sink; normally I don't worry about it, but what if something happens tonight and Allen sees me like this? It's be a good thing, mind you, but weird… because, looking at myself, I can see a suggestive trail of reddish-orange hair trailing down into the rim of my boxers from my belly button, and in the lack of steam from my shower (since my stupid panda of a grandpa had the door open for so long) my nipples look cold. This is my own body I'm staring at, I know, but somehow I'm grossed out by it. I hurriedly tug my shirt over my head, the towel-turban falling to the floor with it.

I run a comb through my hair to get out the tangles, wet my hands with gel and spike it up in the sideways fashion that I do, and don't even bother with the blow-dryer. Collecting up my dirty clothes and towels for the laundry room, I escape the bathroom and walk into the sunlight of the hallway. I can see Allen from this angle, although he isn't facing the door, so he can't see me. He's sitting on my bed, taking a gander at something sitting on the shelf above my end table. Probably the pictures of my mother and father. They're old photos from before I was born, and I got them courtesy from my grandfather's photo album. One in particular – my personal favorite because it shows where I came from – is a picture of my mom with a bloated belly, perfectly round like a balloon. It's dated as June third, exactly a week prior to my birth.

I can tell, now, as I lean forward a bit, that this is the photo that Allen is holding in his hand.

He senses my presence and turns around, his eyes watery even at a distance. "Oh! Lavi…" he says in surprise as he wipes his eyes on his sleeve, "I didn't hear you get out."

Screw taking this stuff down to the laundry room; it can wait until later. I dump it back into the bathroom and walk over to Allen. He's never been inside of my room before; I've always gone to his house every time we've met up with one another. So this is all very new to him.

"That was my mother," I say softly as I sit down beside him and point at the framed picture. "She looks so happy to be pregnant with me, doesn't she? There's a glow on her face. Grandpa said that my dad took this picture without her knowing it, and it was right when I was giving her a little kick and she was feeling it."

"Did your mother die in child birth, too?" he asks me, his tone empathetic. It reminds me too much of the old Allen, and I have to look away.

"No, she was strong. Probably too strong, because her body didn't want to let me out. They had to C-section my birth because something was wrong with her cervix; it wouldn't dilate past four, when it has to go at least to nine, or preferably ten. So it wasn't the birth that killed her, it was the surgery. The doctors fucked up, Allen. They didn't patch her up the right way. About two days after I was born, the internal bleeding they didn't know about leaked into the wrong organs, and she died while nursing me. You know, it's sick, because I can still taste the sweetened blood on my tongue, despite the fact that I was an infant. My memory, sometimes, is too good for even me to stand."

Allen's crying opening now. "I'm so sorry, Lavi…"

I wave it away. "Nah, don't be. It's not like you could have done anything. Or me, for that matter. I've learned to let it go; it wasn't my fault, or my mom's. I want to blame the doctors, but even doctors make mistakes, right? They're only human."

Allen nods. "Yeah, you're right. No sense on dwelling on the past if it's something that couldn't be helped."

"Exactly," I chime in as Allen sets the picture frame back on the self. "Besides, when so many good times are on the way, there's no sense in ruining them with depressing things," I tell him with the utmost sincerity.

Slowly, a smile touches his lips. "You have a point." Standing up, he glances at the corner of my room and notices the electric keyboard I have set up there. He walks over to it. "Do you play?"

"A little," I answer with a light flush burning my ears. "Actually, I only got this stupid thing and the seven free lessons that came with it because I found sheet music on the internet for a very nostalgic song."

"What song?" Allen wonders as he picks up the loose-leaf printer paper and looks at the title at the top. "'Tsunaida Te Ni kiss no'?"

I cough into my hand. "Um, yeah."

"It's written in Japanese."

"I know."

"What is it?" he says breathily, his eyes scanning the pages. "I… I know these notes, even though they're written differently. And the lyrics… they remind me of a… a lullaby."

I nod slowly. "It was a song you used to play, Allen… back when we were Exorcists. There was this thing called the Ark, and on it, a song written with symbols only you and Mana knew how to read. And in order to restore the Ark and take it back from the Earl, you… well, you played the song. And you sang a little, too. Beautifully."

His eyes get glossy, as if he's about to cry. Soon, though, the expression is gone and he's setting the papers down on my keyboard again. "Do you want to leave early?"

I wonder why there's such a sudden change in topic, but I don't dare as. With a raise of an eyebrow, I state lightly, "It's only five o'clock. Half of the things aren't even set up yet."

"Who said we were going to go straight to the Octoberfest?" Allen poses suggestively.

I have to hand it to him: he really does know how to think on his feet. "Okay," I agree as I, too, stand. "I'll grab my jacket from the closet and we can be on our way. Just tell me where I'm driving us, since I'm pretty sure you were dropped off here."

He nods. "I was. I might have my permit, but I still need more logged-in hours before I can get my license." A sigh escapes his lips. "But I don't know where to go. I was hoping you would have an idea."

I ponder that for a moment. Where can I take him? Hmm… ice cream sounds good right about now. But no, we should save any sweets we have tonight for the carnival cotton candy and chocolate-covered banana and strawberry shish-kabobs that they sell from the local Chocolate Factory candy store.

"How about we grab dinner?" I suggest airily as I lead him out of the house and towards my lovable truck. She looks lonely; good thing I'm taking her out for a spin. I pat the hood of my truck as I make my way to the driver's seat. "Now old girl, don't get jealous because I'm taking Allen with us."

Allen cracks a smile. "You talk to your car?"

"Why wouldn't I? Captains talk to their boats, pilots to their planes; why can't I talk to my truck?" I respond as I climb into the hub and slam the door behind me. Allen gets in the passenger side and reaches for his seatbelt after the door is closed. "Besides, when I talk to her, she's starts up better."

"You have troubles starting it sometimes?"

"_Her_," I correct with a sarcastic offense in my voice. "And yes, sometimes, but that's because the ignition wires need to be changed. After she starts, though, she runs smoother than any new vehicle can."

Allen's laughing now, but also attempting to agree with a lame nod. "Alright, I get it: don't make fun of Lavi and his bizarre habits."

"Damn straight," I retort. After a pause, though, I realize how ironic that statement is; because when I'm with Allen, I feel anything but straight. I'm more like a zigzagged rainbow, my attraction is so strong. There are times when I wonder pettily to myself, 'why, of all the people I could fall in love with, did it have to be another male?!' but I usually dismiss this thought in milliseconds, because I wouldn't trade Allen for all the girls in the world. I wish I could tell him that… Embarrassed with my own thoughts, I cough to clear my throat. "So, shall we go to a restaurant, then? Or maybe a pub?"

"A pub? But we're not old enough to drink," Allen reminds me.

"Drink? Of 'course I wouldn't take you to drink! That would be stupid. No, I was thinking of a pub I know that serves alcohol, yes, but also really good burgers."

"In that case," he answers with a smile, "I would love to go there. I'm up for a good burger."

"Good, 'cause I wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Suddenly I have a real hankering for one of their sautéed mushroom-and-onion burgers."

"Sounds delicious," Allen comments lightly.

I chuckle as I stop at a red light. "It is. You'll see; I'll give you a bite of mine."

o0-0o

Dinner made us so full that we decided to walk it off by leaving my truck parked at the pub and opt to stroll down to the river pier where all the action is at. It's about six-thirty now (it took a while to e served; lots of people were there), and the sun is low and plump in the sky, glowing bright orange like an un-carved pumpkin.

"Uhg, I am so full," I groan as I rub my stomach. "But I bet you're still hungry, Allen; you're always hungry."

He shakes his head. "Not this time. Man, I shouldn't have eaten so many onion rings and curly fries with that huge-ass burger!"

"Yeah, I probably should've stopped you," I smile as I dare to drape my arm around his shoulders and pull myself closer. Allen, thankfully, doesn't say anything about the action, and doesn't push me away. "But watch: in an hour or two, you'll want something sweet to nibble on."

"You know me too well, Lavi," he answers with an out-of-place softness to his tone. "It's scary sometimes."

"Well, hey," I shrug, my arm still around him, "It's only because I remember everything."

"But why do you remember?" he raises with deeper interest. "Why is it only you? Why can't I remember as well as you do, too?"

"Gee, that's a good question, Allen," I say as I blow air out of my mouth. I glance over at him. "The only reason I can think of is my brilliant Bookman-trained brain that used to be forced to record every little detail. Maybe that carried on with me into this life. It makes sense, right?"

"I suppose so," Allen grumbles under his breath. "But it isn't fair. I want to remember. I want to know everything from the past like you do."

I stop walking and cock my head at him, my arm slipping down his back. "Why?"

He squirms a bit under my touch and grabs my hand. He doesn't let it go as he whispers, "Because I want to remember you. Something tells me that a lot happened between us that I can't even begin to recall from the depths of my mind. Something tells me that even Timcanpi doesn't have everything recorded that went on between us. But the problem is, I don't remember if those things were good, or bad, or both."

I bring my other hand up to rest on his shoulder. Looking him dead in the eye, I tell him another slice of the truth. "Both happened, Allen. Some of which were so bad I don't want you to remember them, because I hurt you. I hurt you badly, and I'll never forgive myself for it."

"In what way? How did you hurt me? You'd think I'd remember something like that. You'd think I remember any pain."

I pull away and start walking again towards the lights and sounds of the Octoberfest. "I wasn't myself. Rhode – one of the Noah from Timcanpi's videos, the one who messed with Linalee when you two went to help Miranda – was controlling me. She put me into an illusion, and…" I shake my head. "There are a few other things, too, but nothing compares to that time. Actually," I say weakly as Allen lags behind, "I don't know if you ever forgave me for what Rhode made me say and do to you. But I do know that you believed in me through and through… and somehow, that hurts me more than my own regret."

"I think I understand, Lavi," he murmurs behind me, his voice not a foot form my ear. I stop walking again, just outside of the carnival, my frame hidden behind the shadow of a large, ancient oak tree. Allen stops short, too, but fast enough that he bumps into me a bit.

"I pray that someday you'll fully understand," I tell him. Running a hand through my hair (which now is barely stiff any longer from the gel), I force an eager smile to my mouth. "Anyway, let's forget about this stuff for a while. Let's have some fun, okay?"

"Okay," he says softly. I bite my lip at his unsure tone, but wave it away with another fake smile.

"Come on. A ride should cheer you up… or scare the shit out of you. You know, whichever comes first."

He grins sheepishly. "Yeah, whatever."

I take him by the hand and yank him out of the shadow of the tree and into the colorful lights of the festival. They reflect at a distance off of the river water's surface, gleaming brightly like multi-colored stars. My smile becomes a real one as I purchase two tickets for a dizzying ride called the Twisty Tornado. I strap Allen in beside me and grip his hand tightly. "I might throw up on you," I tease.

"Don't go quoting the new Star Trek movie, Lavi," he teases right back.

"You knew that reference?" I grin even broader.

"I'll have you know that I'm an old-time Trekkie thanks to Uncle Cross," he answers. The ride sounds a buzzer, signifying that it's about to move. "Now hold your breath, Lavi, unless you want to lose your burger."

"I was just kidding," I answer as the ride starts moving at a slow pace. "But to be safe, I think I'll take that advice."

The ride begins spinning faster and faster, colors and shapes whirring by at an accelerated rate. Allen's fingers tighten their grip on mine, and I squeeze back more out of comfort than fear. I'm used to these mind-scrambling rides; I've loved them since I was a child. It'll all be over soon enough.

I close my eyes and feel the gentle churning in my stomach and the vertigo in my skull, and I smile. My toes curl involuntarily, as if searching for solid ground. I inhale sharply, the lingering taste of onion rings on my tongue. Then, slowly, I feel something else spin what's spinning the main ride, and I'm thrown into a double-twister. I feel Allen's nails suddenly dug half-moons into the back of my hand, his thumb pressing painfully into my palm. Then, all at once, the ride stops and changes direction, earning a yelp from Allen's throat.

"Lavi! This ride was a bad idea!" he yells at the top of his lungs. I can't help but burst into laughter.

"Don't worry! The next one will be better!" I shout back, even though he's right next to me.

After a minute (although it felt like ten), the rides comes to a slow stop and in a disoriented daze, Allen and I un-strap ourselves and stumble off of the platform.

"How about something slower next?" I say after about twenty minutes of settling our swirling heads with blue raspberry slushies. I slurp up the last of mine and throw it into a nearby garbage bin.

"Like what?" Allen asks as he, too, tosses his slushy.

"A teacup ride?" I suggest jokingly.

He laughs. "Teacup rides are for little kids," he replies with a shove to my shoulder with his own.

"Which is why it'll be even more fun to ride one," I counter with a shove of my own.

"Mmm… alright. But only because I don't know what to suggest we do instead, seeing as how I'm not yet familiar with this place yet."

"You will be after tonight," I say as I haul him towards the childish, pastel-colored cups. "We'll go all over the park, you'll see. And hey! When are Krory and Miranda supposed to be here? We were supposed to spy on them, weren't we?"

Allen and I find a green teacup and climb inside, our knees a bit too high for the manually-spun center piece. We cram inside and huddle together on one end of the cup. From here, the local band playing on the pier is easier to hear, and their music wafts to our ears as the ride fills up with children from ages three to ten.

The music is slow, alternative rock, and I can make out some of the lyrics…

_Lift me up to where the sky meets the sun,  
And recall to me what it was like when time begun…  
Don't hesitate to kiss me full on the mouth,  
And please don't speak to me about what is not the truth…_

Allen snaps me out of the musical trance as he answers my questions from earlier. "Krory and Miranda should be arriving here in forty-five minutes, but knowing them, they'll probably show up about twenty minutes earlier to make a good impression," he chuckles. But then he stops midway through the chuckle, his face falling. "Wait… how did I know that? I'm a friend of Krory's, but I don't know he would do that. And I hardly know Miranda at all yet." He glances over at me, his mouth agape in awe. "Lavi, is being around you making me remember things faster?"

I shrug as the man in charge of the ride calls a last-chance offer and closes the gate. My eyes watch him walk over to the control booth. "It's possible. But what does it matter?" I say gently as I reach for the wheel in the middle and start churning it. "Let's worry about that when you start to recall the major events. For now, small senses of déjà vu (or whatever) is safe. So sit back and enjoy the ride… literally."

Allen looks a bit reluctant, but in the end he gives in and joins my hands on the wheel. The warmth of his fingers overlapping mine sends pleasant memories into the front of my mind. Cool nights like this one, holding hands and staring out at the moon…

"Lavi, look!" Allen says halfway through the ride. One of his hands leaves mine to point. As the ride whirrs past, I turn my head to find a couple walking awkwardly together, the woman of the two is glancing down embarrassedly and hugging a stuffed lion while the guy of the two stutters something and points toward a food stand.

"Krory! Miss Lotto! Heyyy!" I call out to them with a flamboyant wave.

Krory's head snaps in my direction, and he offers a timid smile paired with a slight blush on his pale cheeks. He waves minutely in return, and next to him, Miranda mouths a 'thank you' to Allen and me.

As soon as they walk away, Allen jumps at me with utter glee on his face. "Did you see that? Already they're getting along! It's so sweet."

"Yeah, it really is," I grin brightly as the ride comes to a stop. All the children hurry off, and as I pull Allen to his feet I ask, "Do you want to play some games?"

He flashes me a dangerous smirk. "That all depends on whether or not it'll be you trying to win me something, or us competing."

"Competing, of 'course!" I say as I wink one eye and point a finger in the air. "Did you really think I'd be so cheesy as to win you something? Only in your dreams! We're in it to win it!"

He laughs heartily, one of the most genuine laughs I've heard emit from him since we met. "Alright, alright. But each of us pays for a new round."

"Deal."

And so for the next hour and a half, we travel around the booths to play any and every game we can. We scoop up rubber ducks with gambling numbers on the bottom, we shoot moving targets, pop balloons with darts, throw baseballs to knock down glass bottles, and toss basketballs to see if we make it into the hoops. I spend a good chunk of my money – nearly half of it – on all these games, but seeing Allen enjoy himself and steadily get closer to me is worth it. I want him to feel comfortable with me like he used to. I want…

"Lavi!" he says after we hit our last game, "They have cotton candy and licorice over there! I'm hungry, so let's go!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I say as I stumble with a few of the stuffed animals we collectively won. I wish my truck was nearby; I could drop this stuff off somewhere…

"I'll take two black licorice whips and two extra-large cotton candy bags," I catch Allen saying as I approach the food stand. He glances over at me. "Oh, and a bag of oats for my pack mule."

"Ha ha ha," I mutter sarcastically, although I can feel my eyes wrinkling into a smile despite myself. "Add a bottle of water to that order," I add.

The man hands Allen the treats and bottled water while he digs cash out of his pocket. The man hands him his change. "Enjoy!" the man says with a chuckle as he watches me struggle to open the bottled water with all of the fluffy things in my arms.

"Here, let me do it," Allen says with a roll of his eyes as he leads me to the least-dirty picnic table. He sets some of the toys down and takes my water from me. With a short twist, the cap cracks from it's ring and comes off. He hands me the open-topped bottle. While I suck down the life-sustaining liquid, Allen murmurs, "Let's go on the Ferris Wheel next."

I nearly choke on my seventh gulp. I cough for a moment. "Uwah – R-really?"

He nods. "Yeah. The fireworks are going to start soon; it's approximately a quarter after nine. Wouldn't it be awesome to see them light up over the river while we're at the highest point of the town?"

There's a glow all around Allen's face that makes my heart twinge with a bit of hollow pain. He's only looked that happy once – perhaps twice – from our previous life. The old Allen rarely got excited or happy about things due to all of the memories that tore him apart. This Allen isn't too different, but it's still amazing to see him act… normal.

It makes me wonder how different I am from my old self, and if he notices, too.

"Sure, that sounds perfect," I smile as I slip my hand into his and get my cap back. He flushes a bit at the tender gesture as I replace the cap on the water bottle. "Shall we, then?"

I hold out my elbow, and he laces his arm through it. "We shall."

We leave our stuffed prizes on the table; if it gets stolen, then oh well, at least some little kid will be happy with them. Allen doesn't seme to care, and I don't either. He holds up the cotton candy as we walk, and I lean in towards his chest to reach it. He smiles, laughing with his eyes, as I try to catch the woven blue sugar in my mouth. He yanks it back just before I get it and pops it in his mouth. He tears off another piece, and this time feeds it right into my mouth. My cheeks swarm with heat, because Allen's only fed me soup when I was sick in the far past.

Linalee finds us before we get to the Ferris Wheel, and I only realize that it's her because I hear her familiar giggle behind me. I turn around, my elbow immediately dropping, Allen's arm falling to his side as mine falls to my side. "Lina!" I burst out in surprise.

"Hey you two," she coos. Kanda is beside her, his arms crossed over his chest. His hair is up in his usual pony-tail, only I notice there's now a bow stuck to it. A dark navy blue bow, nearly impossible to see in the dark against his black hair. Linalee must have done that. "You sure look friendly."

I glance down as I scratch the back of my head. "Yeah, well. It shouldn't be any surprise to you, Lina."

She giggles as she leans back into Kanda and rests her head on him. "And this shouldn't surprise you, Lavi."

I blink for a second. "Whoa, hold the phone. What d'ya mean? Are you two together now?!"

Even Allen's jaw drops. I can almost hear it hit the grass.

"Yup," Linalee gushes. She turns to Kanda. "You don't mind if I tell them, do you?"

"Che. It's not like I care what the idiots think. Tell them if you want; I'll be over at the concession stand to get some iced tea."

"Okay," she grins as he walks away. Then, she turns back to Allen and me and confesses, "While we were here tonight to watch Miranda's progress, we kinda drifted from them and took a nice long walk along the river. Yuu and I talked about all sorts of things, like our childhood play dates with one another and the games we used to play. And I accidentally let it slip that I used to have a crush on him in grade school, and the next thing you know, he's acting really sweet to me and doing whatever I want, even though he was hesitant to come here. And then…" she leans in, her face bright even amidst the nearly-black sky and dim circus-like lights, "He kissed me when we were on the Ferris Wheel a little while ago."

A grin spreads across my face, mainly due to the fact that I had been planning on doing the same action to Allen. "Did he really? Wow, that's classic. I'm happy for you, Linalee."

"Thanks," she says softly. Then, with a twist at a long strand of hair, she says, "Well, here comes Yuu. I'll see you two later."

"Bye," Allen says, the first thing since Linalee and Kanda appeared. I wave as she skips over to her new boyfriend.

A moment passes, and I take that as an opportunity to turn Allen around and continue moving towards the Ferris Wheel. "Come on, we have to hurry unless we want to watch the fireworks from the ground," I tell him.

"Lavi," he says lowly.

"Hmm?" I hum as we pay for a ticket and climb into the little seat, the bar clanking down over our laps.

"You're not thinking of…" but he trials off, the sentence left to the unknown.

"Thinking of what, Allen?"

"Nothing," he replies curtly, his eyes dancing over to the ripples of the river, black from the reflection of the starry sky.

"It's a nice night," I say softly as I lean back into the chilly metal and fell the seat rock. The ride isn't moving yet, but already I feel higher than everyone else.

"Yeah, it's clear," Allen responds vaguely.

"I smell fire," I say.

"Me too."

We sit in silence, and it bothers me. "Pass me a licorice whip, will ya?" I say to break it. Anything to break the silence.

"Sure. Here," he says as he turns towards me with a whip in his hand. Out of the blue, he jerks forward from the ride starting, and falls across my lap, his right forearm hitting the bar to stop his fall.

I catch him and the dangling licorice as we start to move backwards, the seats climbing towards the top. "Be careful," I whisper in his ear as I lift him back into his previous position.

"Thanks," he mumbles as I take the licorice from him and tear off a piece with my teeth. He watches the action, his eyes following the movement of my lips. Then, he holds up his own licorice, and does the same.

As we go around for the first turn, we scarf down the black licorice, which is spicy and sweet and pungent on my tongue. It's like eating the candied version of a curving shadow. I gobble it up before Allen finishes his, indirectly winning our eating contest. He grins, his teeth stained an odd greenish-black from the tobacco-colored spit in his mouth.

"Gross," I cringe overdramatically.

Allen laughs harder. "You know it's sexy," he counters as he licks his lips.

I'm about to reply, but our attention is suddenly diverted by an explosion of red and orange in the sky above us. "Wow!" I exclaim as the first three fireworks cloak the sky in a trickling waterfall of color and light. It sears my retinas for a minute, but as the next round is shot into the sky, my eyes adjust and I can't help but smile. I peer sideways at Allen, and as the second round explodes into what I can only guess by the glow on Allen's face as green and blue fireworks, I notice the true beauty in Allen sparked anew from my memories. In the strange lighting, his hair looks white again, and his left eye looks dark red. In a brief moment, I see him as his past and present self all at once, and it's startling. "Allen…"

"What is it, Lavi?" he returns as his gaze falls on me. The whistling of another five fireworks soaring through the air rings in my ears.

"Would it be stupid if I said…"

The fireworks burst during my sentence, and I struggle to be heard above them.

"…That you look stunning to me?"

"What was that?" he shouts as the fireworks diminish and I'm left blinking at him.

He hadn't heard me? Dammit! Maybe I should just show him what I mean…

"Lavi?" he puzzles dumbly as I wander into his personal space.

"Shut up for a minute, Allen," I murmur as the space between us closes with a deafening crash of our lips and another round of fireworks lighting up the air with electric flames.

He's warm against me, his chest not an inch from mine. I slide my hands along the bar near out laps and touch the closest hand, which happens to be his left. It's tight and bony, as if he's crushing the metal in his fingers. My heart skyrockets to impossible beating rates as I dare to press closer and flick my tongue out to taste him. On his lips I can taste the sugar of the cotton candy, and as he parts his full lips to gain me access, I can fully taste the licorice on his tongue as it merges with the black flavor of my own.

In this fraction of a moment, I don't care if someone sees two boys kissing. I don't give a shit if we get kicked off the ride, or if a firework spirals out of control and sets everything on fire. All I care about is Allen, right here in front of me, warm and alive and kissing me back.

Because even if his brain doesn't remember me, his body does. Slowly, his hands part from their iron grip on the bar and automatically cling to their old place around my neck, his thumbs pressing hard into the base of my skull. All the affectionate touches and the way he's kissing me now reminds me of how deeply our bond went, and how apparent it is in Allen, even if he can't recall the exact conditions of such a strong bond. At least part of him remembers me. At least part of him can fall into the routine we used to practice every time we were left alone.

I part for air, a sigh of Allen's name rolling off my lips. I catch the ending of my name from his. "Why…" he adds, but I don't give him time to finish the thought. I recapture his swollen, pink lips into my mouth and temporarily suck at the lower one before pulling away long enough to plant another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Allen makes a small noise, something old and familiar to my senses. I let my hand wander down his back, and he leans into me. The Ferris Wheel seat rocks a bit with our movements, and more fireworks boom in the sky, but I somehow feel that all of these teeny things are occurring inside of me instead of around me.

"Love you…" I mumble against Allen's mouth, the two words barely audible. "So much, you'll never know…"

But I forget that he's not supposed to know this yet.

"What… what did you just say?" he gasps as I plant another kiss on his tender skin. His fingers curl in my hair. "You… you really meant that, didn't you?"

I don't reply. I can't, not now. My throat is constricting painfully, like it does when I'm dehydrated or about to break into a sob.

"I think… I think I…"

"Shh, Allen."

"But Lavi –"

"Shh," I hush him, my finger trailing down his lips to cease their activity. "The ride is almost over. Let me kiss you a bit longer before it ends, okay?"

He can see the evident need in my eyes, and nods his consent. I line his jaw with butterfly kisses, just ghostly brushes of my lips. Then, timidly, I bump my nose against his earlobe as I lay a wet kiss at the base of his jaw. Allen gasps and arches into me again, and I realize that he still has the same weak spot as before. Some things never change…

"Lavi, don't. I can't… meh… walk off of the Ferris Wheel with a bruise on my neck."

"I won't do that, silly," I answer softly, my hot breath hitting me back in the face after rebounding off his collar bone. "I was just testing something."

I feel the ride come to a slow stop, and as it does, I ease off of Allen and discreetly wipe my mouth. I take his hand in mine, our fingers idly filling the gaps between the other's fingers as if it were second nature.

We hop off of the ride, no one giving us strange looks, thank God. This means they are either opting to ignore what they could have seen, or didn't see a thing at all. Hopefully it's the former.

Being slightly taller than he is, Allen finds it easy to rest his forehead on my shoulder. "Lavi… can we become a real couple now?"

I don't hold back the chuckle that erupts in my throat. "I thought you'd never ask."

He breathes out three short bursts of sound, like a small bout of embarrassed laughter. "Well, I just did."

"And I'm glad, because that means I won't have to keep hiding my flirting."

"And here I thought you weren't hiding it at all."

"You got me there, bean sprout," I grin.

"It's Allen!" he shoots back as he lifts his head from my shoulder. Only it's not an offended shot; he's playing it up sarcastically.

We cross over the grounds of the Octoberfest and head for the street. It's time to go; we've had our fill of fun for one night.

…Only as we're walking, we pass by an extremely familiar face, visibly dark-skinned even in the night. He smirks wryly at us, the crawling feeling of dread sinking into my stomach as he does so. Then, just as quickly as he appeared, Tyki Mikk disappears behind us as he heads for the very place we just left.

"I know him," Allen mutters fearfully.

"Yes, you do."

"He was on Timcanpi's files."

"Yes."

"…He tried to kill me."

"…Yes."

"Who is he, Lavi?"

I sigh as we approach my truck. "His name is Tyki, and he used to be a No–"

I stop dead in my tracks. There's something sticking out of my pickup truck's long trunk. It's black and shimmering in the streetlight, like a garbage bag.

"Lavi? What's wrong?"

"Wait here," I hiss like a swear word. I march over to my truck and yank back the black cloak, which upon touching, I realize is tarp.

And as Allen disobeys my order and appears behind me, we scream in unison at the bloodied body staring us in the face with milky, dead eyes.

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**A/N: MWAHAHAHAA! None of you saw that coming, did you? Well, let me provide you with a brief explaination: THIS WAS NOT MEAN TTO BE A HAPPY-GO-LUCKY AU LOVESTORY. Sorry. The lovestory is in it, yes, but there is so much more to it. More action, more drama. And the "real plot" of all that starts here, now, within the last few lines of this chapter and untilt he rest of the story. But have no fear, kiddies! The ending shall be a relatively happy one, despite the shocking turn of events I will reveal to you in the future.**

**Thank you so much on the reviews, and I hope to see a flood of them with your thoughts on this chapter! **

**Until chapter ten,  
Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare.**

**Next chapter:**

_[10]__  
__._ _A Web of Spin-Woven Lies__._


	10. A Web of SpinWoven Lies

**A/N: This is some pretty intense shit right here. So feast yourselves, and please don't mind Lavi's melodrama at the end of the chapter. He's just being... well, like how I am internally.**

**OMG I HAVE OVER 100 REVIEWS!!! I just relaized that! Wow... thank you all so0o0o much for the support. I love you all terribly. If you keep this up, I'd just be the happiest girl in the world. #doesn't want to promise cookies or something since she can't give that through a computer#**

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_[10]__  
__._ _A Web of Spin-Woven Lies__._

It all happened so fast, that my head is still reeling in an attempt to catch up.

Our conjoined scream was barely the tip of the iceberg. Sooner than expected, police sirens sounded in the distance, and Allen started to yell furiously with a rage so deep I thought he was battling the injustices of Akuma once again. He started to rant hysterically, his eyes wild and afraid and his voice harsh and sharp. He expressed the cruelty of murder and how whoever commits it should get what they rightly deserve, and all the while I'm staring at the body, wondering who it is and if this was part of a serial killing that got dumped on the nearest truck, or if the person was going to steal my car as a getaway but saw us coming and ran instead, or if there was another reason I didn't yet know about.

But at the time, I couldn't think as Allen started to cry hot, angry tears and curled up against me on the pavement as I sunk to my knees and blinked back overwhelming panic and confusion. The police cars came, saying they got an anonymous call about a body. Then, they took us into custody and called our legal guardians as he rode with them to the police station for questioning. They didn't read us our Miranda Rights, but I hardly noticed. I knew to keep my mouth shut unless my grandfather or a lawyer was present; I learned so from Youth and Law class at my old high school.

And this brings us to the current moment, in which it's midnight at a rather empty police station, and I'm feeling sleepy and shock-still and generally unresponsive. In my lap, Allen sleeps at an awkward angle, since his hands are cuffed like my own. I stroke his hair, which suddenly looks more washed-out than I remember; much more, as if it's turning blonde. Oh well, it's probably the fluorescent lighting above us. I bet when we get home (because I fully intend on having him stay the night at my house tonight), it'll look like it's usual mousy brown once again.

"Sir, we found your grandson at a crime scene; we suspect that someone was trying to dump the body, but needed transport, so they took the nearest vehicle – your grandson's 1964 pickup."

"So you don't think that he committed the murder?" panda man says softly so not to be heard, his tone unreadable. But I can still catch every word he and the officer discuss.

"That is correct, sir, although we can't rule anything out. As we speak, my partner is interviewing people at the downtown fair, to confirm the minors' alibis and to assess whether or not anyone there could have killed the victim."

"Who is the victim?" Cross Marian asks. Up until now he hasn't said a word, merely stood beside my grandpa with his hands clasped military-style behind his back.

"A young woman of about thirty years of age, who goes by the name of Christine Alyce. She was a recently employed teacher at the local high school. The file says that she taught painting and drawing."

I didn't know her. But by the way Allen had ranted about how unfair it was that she died so young, I assume that he knew her. She was probably one of his teachers, if he took either of those art classes.

In my lap, Allen stirs. The new angle I receive as he shifts his weight allows me to see the dried tear trails down his cheeks and the soft, black lashes of his eyes. His nose is still red from crying some hour or so ago. I lean down and whisper positive reinforcement in his ear, even if he might not be awake. Out of the corner of his eyes, I can tell Cross is staring at my open affection, but it doesn't matter to me what he thinks. In the past, he didn't know about Allen and I. We were careful to keep it a secret from him, since he was clearly a womanizer and homophobe. But if he knows about us now… well, I can't imagine his reaction being nearly as severe.

"It's late. Why don't you take the boys home, and we'll make an appointment to have a nice long chat tomorrow, eh? Have a good night, Mr. Bookman."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the grumpy old man mutters as he waves the words away and paces over to where Allen and I are seated on a bench. "Let's go home, Lavi."

"Cross," I address with a careless amount of respect (meaning none), "I want Allen to spend the night at my house. He's been through a lot, and needs someone with him."

I feel Allen shaking into awareness on my lap, his muscles stiffening up against my thigh. "Hmhn?" he groans questioningly. "What's going on?"

"Apparently," Cross says flatly, "This young man doesn't understand how to ask someone for a favor."

"It was just a suggestion, _Cross_," I sneer in a low tone. "But hey, if you don't mind Allen getting nightmares and possibly suffering a panic attack in the middle of the night, then I guess it's safe to say that you're a wonderful caretaker."

"Watch your mouth, boy!" he snaps at me, but his fury doesn't faze me. After the weird chain of events I've been through tonight – from having a blissful time with Allen to seeing Tyki to finding a deceased woman waiting in my truck like a Christmas ham to being dragged to the police station and waiting for a little over two hours to leave – I feel like picking a fight. Preferably with a man I never liked much to begin with.

"Lavi, don't provoke him," Allen whispers tiredly against my shoulder. "My uncle is not the guy to mess with late at night at a police station."

"Yeah, well, if he would just let you stay over, then I wouldn't have such an attitude," I retort icily.

"Humph. I like your boyfriend, Allen; he's a real catch, venom and all," Cross grumbles sardonically, his gruff voice scraping against my ears like sandpaper.

The conversation dies at this remark. My grandfather looks between us, clear disgust on his face at the idea of me being gay. It's also quiet, I notice, because no one wants to have a conversation like this when curious policemen with watchful eyes are hovering just outside of our ring of disagreement.

After a moment, Cross turns and starts to walk away. "Fine, let him stay at your house. But I swear to God, if he comes home with a limp in his step, then I'm charging you with statutory rape."

I reel back at this statement, Allen immediately leaning off of me as he predicts my next actions. I leap my to my feet, hands still cuffed, and yell, "I would never do that to him, especially after the night we've had! What kind of man do you take me for?!"

"A loud-mouthed one," he says with a dark chuckle as he exits the building. I'm left panting in place, my only emotion now being fury. I'm furious at everything (except Allen) at the moment. Any other emotions I might've had suddenly meld together and boil upwards to my head in the form of anger.

"Lavi," Allen murmurs as a police officer comes over to us and gently explains that he's going to take off the cuffs and let us go home for the night. "Don't let my uncle get to you. He always acts like an arrogant bastard. He's just One Big Drunken Womanizer, remember?"

I twist my face into a teeny smile, recalling the nickname we used to give Cross back at the Order. I'm surprised that Allen remembers; it was one of those things that, like our love-making (in all expressions of the word), we kept from prying eyes and Timcanpi's recording ones. We had to keep our relationship a complete secret, because back then it was downright shameful. Part of this I'm glad for, because that way it shows how much Allen can truly remember, and hides some of the things he shouldn't remember yet.

"Yeah, I remember," I say as I exhale languidly to release all of my pent-up fury. It comes out like a dying snake, full of malice but with no energy to carry out it's intentions. Somehow, Allen has always been able to bring me back to myself, even when I thought I was lost. But I think he has that ability with everyone, even someone as far gone as Suman was over a hundred years ago.

"So… I'm sleeping at your house?" Allen clarifies as we leave the station and get into my grandfather's car.

"Yup."

"Where will I sleep?"

"We'll figure that out when we get there," I yawn in reply. In front of us, I notice that my grandpa is trying his best to not ask questions or even look our way. I suddenly feel bad, because I don't know what I'm supposed to say to him. 'Sorry I found a dead body and fell in love (for a second time) with another boy, Gramps, but that's just how things are so deal with it?' Damn, that sounds so ugly. I need to figure out something to say, because even though that is completely correct, it's not at all tactful.

The rest of the ride home is silent, and Allen starts to drift back into unawareness as late-night drivers pass us. I ease him back to my shoulder, and with a wetting of his lips and a shrug of his shoulders, he drops his weight on me and falls back asleep.

When we arrive in my driveway, I don't hesitate to unbuckle Allen and I and slide my arms underneath him. He jerks his head for a second, and mumbles something akin to, 'what're you doing?'

"I'll carry you," I say softly. My grandpa is already up at the front door, jamming his key into the lock noisily, the other keys jingling against his palm.

"You dun haf to," Allen mumbles.

He's barely awake, the events of tonight leaving him more worn out that I ever remember seeing him. It's like he's drunk. "No, but I want to," I answer. "It'll be like old times. I've carried you on my back and in my arms before; you're so light that it doesn't bother me."_ Plus, I like having your body close to me,_ I add mentally.

I carry him into the house, thankful that my grandfather is there to open doors for me. I still don't know what he's thinking, but at least he's being kind enough to assist me. I murmur a 'thank you' to him before closing my bedroom door behind me with the toe of my shoe. I set Allen down on my bed and yank off his shoes, and then proceed to pull the sheets over him. He rolls onto his side, his closed eyes facing me.

I kick off my shoes and peel off my clothes, and don whatever pair of sweatpants I can find in the dark. The streetlamp on the corner of my cul-de-sac streams a small beam of light into the room, but it's hardly enough since it falls mostly on the shape of Allen's back and thigh.

Slowly, so not to disturb him, I climb onto my full-sized bed and lay down behind Allen. I tuck myself under the covers and scrounge for the sheets, which are twisted under Allen from my morning haste.

Suddenly, Allen's voice breaks the calm of the night. "Lavi," he says, most of the sleepy slur drained form his voice. For a moment I wonder if he's sleep-talking, but then he drags the sheets from under him and hands them to me, his eyes wide open and illuminated by the streetlamp outside. "How awake are you?"

"Enough to sit and talk for a while, if you're up for it," I answer with a fuzzy voice. I need water. I arch my back and reach behind me for my end table and grab the old water bottle off of it. I prop myself up on my elbow and chug half of it before thinking to offer it to Allen. He takes it and downs the rest before tossing it somewhere on my floor.

"Me, too. I was so tired before, but now everything is storming me at once, and I can't sleep."

"Well then, tell me what's on your mind."

"Can you turn on a light first? It'll help me stay awake long enough to tell you something important."

I quirk an eyebrow at the urgency hidden in his tone, but comply nonetheless. I flick on my beside lamp, which has a soft 40-watt bulb in it. But as the light fills the room, I blink back in surprise. Confusion washes over me as I stare, dumbfounded, at Allen's hair. "I wasn't imagining it, then?" I muter to myself.

"Huh?" he puzzles.

I shake my head deftly and point at him. "A-Allen, your hair… it's… it's white again!" I say in a flabbergasted tone.

"What? How?" he manages as he glances over at the mirror above my dresser. His eyes bulge in shock. "You're right!" He scrambles off the bed, his clothes wrinkled from lying down in so many different positions since the Octoberfest. He touches his left hand to his scalp, tugging lightly at the silver-white now present there. But then he jumps back and stares, hard, at his hand. "No, no…"

"What is it?" I wonder aloud. He stumbles back over my messy room to my bed, and shoves the back of his fist at me. There, in the center of his creamy skin is the beginning of a cross-shape, black as if burned. Around it his skin is irritated and blood red.

"Lavi… what does this mean?" he breathes with freight masking his voice.

"I think it means there is more going on around us than we realize, Allen," I respond as I touch his face. His scar is bleeding. It shouldn't bleed when it's so old. I lick my fingertips, wincing a bit at the metallic taste. I bring Allen's face closer to mine, my hand guiding him by his jaw. I lick away the blood trailing down his left cheek and close my eyes so that I don't have to see the red and black rings in his left eye.

"I didn't want to tell you on the Ferris Wheel, Lavi, but…"

"But what?" I ask as I pull away and wipe at his face with my thumb. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, and the red/black appearance of his eyes has vanished.

"Remember when I said, 'I think I…' but I drifted off?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I was going to say that I think I saw something. When we were high up like that, I felt the star in my forehead tingle. It sounds stupid, like something from Harry Potter, but I seriously saw something in that moment. It seems that, ever since I've gotten this weird scar, I've been seeing… strange things. Not often, and only in crowds of people. I see this weird band of crosses, like a crown, etched on people's foreheads. And I think, based on what I've seen in Timcanpi's records, that those people were Noah. When we walked past Tyki tonight… I saw the same thing."

"But that's impossible!" I hiss, infuriated at the idea of there still being Noah around. "We killed them all!"

"Maybe not," Allen mutters seriously, his eyes wavering in their sockets as his mind races with possibilities, "Maybe some of them lived. Maybe they're immortal, or maybe the Earl granted them immortality before I killed him. Maybe it's only a few of them, but looks like there's more since I remember that one of them – the Noah of Lust, was it? Her name was Lulubell, I'm sure – could change their appearance. So maybe… maybe there's something going on here, like a conspiracy of sorts, and we were reincarnated to stop it. Think about it: why else would you be born with memory of the past? Why else would we happen to stumble across Timcanpi in the oddest of places? And why else would my abilities from the past – however altered they may be – be showing themselves? It makes sense, doesn't it?"

I run my hands through my hair wildly, the sense of what he's saying seeming flawlessly thought out to me. "Actually, it does make a lot of sense, Allen. God, I knew you were clever, but you amaze me sometimes." I offer him a lopsided grin. "Wasn't I supposed to be the smart one?"

"Nope, I was always the smart one," he replies. "After all, you were clueless about my feelings for you back then."

I freeze in place, my heart skipping a beat.

Allen glances away, his white hair picking up the light from outside and turning silver. "Yes, I remember. I did the second you kissed me on the Ferris Wheel. It was the freakiest thing: suddenly, a rush of images flooded my head, all of them about me staring at you and wishing that I could be with you, but knowing that you were too stupid and distant to pick up my messages or have feelings for anyone."

"So, tonight… you remembered…" I blink a few times. "How much did you remember?"

"Enough," he whispers. "Enough to know that we used to be in love. That's why I knew that you meant it when you said it to me after you kissed me." He finally brings his eyes to mine, the sweet color of their blue-grey hue swarming my senses. Uncontrollably, I lean in towards him. Allen quickly reaches past me and turns off the light. "Let's go to sleep, Lavi."

Shaking off my feelings, I sink into the mattress. "Right." Then, as a hazy afterthought, I ask, "What did you mean when you said that you have problems with your memory?"

"Lavi, I'd rather not get into that now…" he sighs as rolls onto his back.

"I need to know, Allen. It sounded dangerous, like Alzheimer's disease or something," I plead with him.

He sighs again. "It's not premature Alzheimer's. I would know if it was." He shakes his head. "No, it's something else. But now that I know what's going on, I have a theory about it."

"Care to share your theory?" I prod further as I creep up beside him. He doesn't resist me as I feel under the covers for his left hand and grasp it. It's warmer than the rest of him, and feels rough and bumpy on the back where the newly formed cross is displayed.

"Only because you're so insistent," he grumbles mildly. Then he dives into a stream of words that take all of my tired concentration to absorb. "When I was younger, I used to easily forget where I was and what I was doing. I would drift in and out of reality and claim afterwards that I had been doing something else. And even after he died, I kept mentioning Mana and what I killed him, even though I technically hadn't. I think, all throughout that time, I was remembering glimpses of my childhood from my previous life, and kept thinking I was reliving it, when I actually wasn't. And even now, in high school, I get random bouts of confusion. After meeting you, they started to fade and I became surer of myself, but it makes me wonder: why is my head so jumbled up? Why do I keep losing or gaining memory? Finally, I think I see why: it's because of the fact that I'm a reincarnation of a different Allen Walker, and I'm going to be faced with 'supernatural' obstacles like he was."

I can't believe that he's figured out this entire epiphany on his own. It's astonishing, really. I mean, I never mistook Allen to be a dumb kid, but now I find his common sense and reasoning skills to be on a much higher scale. Of 'course, like anyone out there, he has his "blonde moments" and can get into some really stupid shit, but that still doesn't deter from his miniscule genius.

"But you know, I think I have a new memory problem now: not remember everything about my past that I should be. There are a few thins I'm sure I could ask you about that will help me remember, but they're things I don't want to get into."

"Like what?" I want to know.

Allen bites his lip and looks away. "Like… if I gave you my virginity. Or how it was that I died. Gruesome things like that."

"I wouldn't call sex gruesome, but I get your point," I chuckle embarrassedly as I rub the base of my neck. "And if you must know, you died nobly."

"I did?"

"Very much so," I say, trying to keep the evident sorrow from my voice. I fail, however.

"Did you… have to watch me die?" he whispers. He still isn't looking at me, but now I think it's because he's trying not to cry.

"No." I choke on the word, tears stinging the back of my eyes. "No, the only people I watched die who were close to me was Linalee and Bookman. But you had to watch me die." The sentence hung in the air like an anvil, the lingering weight of it just out of reach, but plainly in sight.

"Oh…" is all Allen can say.

"But it's okay now," I say hurriedly, my hand squeezing his as I snuggle closer. I let go of his hand and wrap my arm around his chest, his heart beating frantically under my forearm. "We're alive now, and the Millennium Earl is dead. We're together, and no one we care about is suffering. Cities aren't coming to ruin, and Akuma aren't rampaging about."

"But Noah are," he says weakly. "And it's up to us to stop them, I can feel it. Miss Alyce… she died today, and I'm positive that a Noah did it. I mean, we saw Tyki coming back from where we were going, and her body was _right there_! I don't know what the autopsy will show, but if any of her organs are missing or mysteriously crushed, then we'll know that it was him."

I look up at his face. "Organs…? You remember Tyki Mikk's powers?"

He nods vigorously. "All too well, as soon as I saw him tonight."

"Oh, God." I pause to cling to Allen, my fingertips pressing into his skin. The heat of his body flows into me, and I try to relax as I feel him breathing. "This won't be easy, will it?"

"Something tells me that it won't," he answers truthfully, his voice thin. "But I have you with me to help."

I smile despite my conflicting emotions. "Yes, that's true. And I'll always be here to protect you, Allen, even though I don't have my mallet any more."

"Yes, but you do have a hammer in your backpack," he yawns amusedly. "I saw it."

I laugh as I reposition myself around him. "Yeah, I keep that in there for personal reasons."

"What kind of personal reasons?" Allen's voice sounds sleepy again.

"Nostalgia," I say. "And security; you never know when someone might attack you."

He simply laughs, the winded sound being the last thing I hear come from him before he falls asleep for the final time tonight, his head tilting to rest against the top of mine. Even though I'm taller, I feel like shrinking against his chest, my feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Allen doesn't know this, but I wasn't the one to take his virginity. He took mine first, because I asked him to. At the time, I had wanted him to know that even though I'm older, I am by no means better than he is; I wanted him to know that I saw us as equals, as _partners_. I told him that I would have my turn later, if he let me (which of 'course he did). So aside from the truth about his death (which I don't know about, since I died first), there is at least the truth about the other thing he asked.

To be honest, I'd rather him not know how heavily I rely on him, even though he never knew it to begin with. Some things should be kept to myself, and my craving for him is one of them.

o0-0o

The following morning, I wake up to the familiar scent of cotton candy and charred wood. I open my eyes slowly, my hand coming up from it's warm place under the sheets to rub the sand from my eyes. I pull my cheek from it's moving pillow to find Allen's chest beneath me. I must have not moved all through the night, because I get the feeling from the kink in my neck and the scent of Allen's clothing in my nose that it's true.

Allen's stirs, his lips stiffening and his nostrils flaring as his limbs move and stretch. A yawn erupts, and slowly he blinks his eyes open. "Lavi…? What time is it?"

I peer over at my clock. "It's eight oh three," I murmur, my morning voice sounding God-awful to my ears. I bet my morning breath is even worse. It sure tastes like it, since I hadn't brushed my teeth before I went to bed.

"Uhg, that's too early," he groans as he rolls onto his side away from me. "Wake me when it's ten."

"No can do, bean sprout," I say as I lean down towards him. "We have three people in this house who need to shower and get ready for the interrogation they're going to be a part of today," I remind him. I murmur against his ear, "And I don't think skipping breakfast before such a big event is wise, do you?"

"Breakfast?" he says, his tone more awake at the mention of food.

I laugh. "Yes, breakfast. I'll cook you whatever you want to eat that I can find ingredients for."

"In that case," he grunts as he forces himself to sit up and look at me, "I guess I can be up this early."

"Good boy," I grin.

"And, Lavi…"

"Yes?"

He surprises me by leaning up and kissing me on the cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?" I ask, my grin only growing.

"For letting me stay the night and talking to me a little before I went to sleep. Because of that, I didn't have any bad dreams, and felt more relaxed."

He must remember what I said at the police station about nightmares and panic attacks. I blush a bit. "It's nothing, honest."

He shakes his head as he hops out of my bed. "No, it's a lot more than you realize."

And with that, he exits the room and heads down the hall for the bathroom. I sit here a moment, wondering what that could mean. But after a few hazy thoughts I give up and also climb out of bed. Ahead of me, I get the foreboding feeling that this is going to be a very, very long day.

"Allen…"

"What?" he calls from the kitchen.

"I need coffee…"

If nothing else, caffeine should help me through the day. Strong, black caffeine with lots of sugar and no cream to water it down. Mm, yes, I can taste it already.

"Well get your ass in here and make yourself some coffee. I don't know how to work your machine. It looks complicated," he replies as I stumble in through the doorway, my legs still half asleep.

"Already on it, babe," I yawn. I'm pleased to catch the faint blush that decorates his cheeks at my use of the term 'babe'.

"Don't be calling me that when we go in for questioning," is Allen's response as soon as the blush fades. "We don't want people to get the wrong idea yet."

"But their 'wrong idea' would technically be the right one, since it'd be true. And 'yet' is the operative word here."

He grins, the tired look on his face making the smile seem softer than usual. Sunlight reflects off of his newly transformed hair, and I stumble back a moment before turning around and finish carrying out my coffee task.

"Less talking and more cooking," Allen orders from behind me. "You promised me food."

I chuckle. "And food you shall have, bean sprout."

"_My name is Allen_."

"I know~"

o0-0o

The second we walk into the police station, the air around me holds itself inward, as if bracing me for abusive physical contact. I inhale the fearful air sharply, the dryness of it's presence almost strangling me. "Allen," I rasp out as I reach for his hand and clamp down on his forearm instead due to his shorter height. "Something doesn't feel right. Something…"

And that's when we see Rhode, a smile adorning her thin, childish lips. Her golden brown eyes flash our war, and Allen stiffens under my grip as his fists clench. I peer over at him while my grandfather walks over to Cross at the front desk. In Allen's face I can see anger bubbling just below the surface, anger at injustice. And in his left eye I see gears turning as it darkens to a red-black hue I'm so familiar with. He brings his opposite hand (since I was gripping his left) and smacks it over his left eyes to cover it's appearance from others. He's also wearing gloves today, to cover his recently deforming left hand. The gloves are a pair of my own, a set of black fingerless gloves from my more punk days in middle school.

"She's a Noah, Lavi," he whispers.

"I know. I mean, I knew that she used to be, but I get it now that she still is."

"What should we do? Why is she even here?"

"I wish I could tell you, Allen," I say slowly, "But I can't. Come on, let's follow our guardians."

But we don't get to follow them. They take Allen to a waiting room as a police man with a badge that says Officer Krieg and a detective with a face I know too well drag me to a room. It's one of those rooms with a two-way mirror and a table and two chairs. Krieg sits down and directs me to the chair opposite him. The detective opts to stand at ease near the door. The detective, I note, looks exactly like Howard Link. Even his hair is long and back in a low ponytail, although he's missing the weird bangs and eyebrows.

"State your name, please," Krieg says to me.

"Lavi Deak," I answer calmly. I lace my fingers together and set them on the table to stabilize their shaking. My heart pulsates in my throat and I can feel my blood rushing in my head like what you hear when you hold a sea shell to your ear. But I can't let them see my weakness. I have to stay strong for Allen's sake, as well as my own.

And so the questioning begins, my chest collapsing further with each one.

"Is that your given name?"

"No, I legally changed it. My given name was Lavi Bookman."

"Why did you change it, Mr. Deak?"

"That is personal."

"You didn't change it because you were in trouble, did you? Witness protection perhaps? Hiding from the law due to a crime?"

"No. That's absurd. Plus, I have no criminal record. You can even check my files, before and after I became Lavi Deak."

"We noticed that, son, but we wanted to make sure. You can never be too careful with teenaged boys."

"I'm aware of the statistics, sir. I learned in Youth and Law class in my sophomore year that most victims of crime and principle factors of crime are teenaged boys from ages fourteen to nineteen. Most murder victims are of similar ages as well."

"Ah, so we have a smart aleck on our hands, do we? Well, if you're so smart, then tell me what you think happened last night to the late Miss Alyce."

"I think she was murdered, sir." I mutter in a tone that states the obvious.

"And who do you think murdered her, hmm?"

"I can't prove it even if I told you who I thought did it, sir."

"Oh, really? So you have a clue, then?"

"A clue so much as a… speculation."

"Then what is your speculation?"

"Prior to finding the body in my truck, my friend Allen Walker and I were walking back from the Octoberfest when we passed a man by the name of Tyki Mikk. He goes to my university, you see. And we noticed that he was walking directly towards where we left from, and directly away from where we were headed. My guess is, he was the one who dumped the body for me to find, and he was going to the festival to have an alibi," I state slowly, making sure to choose my words carefully.

"Is that a fact?" the man says in amazement. "I must say, that's good speculation. But enlighten me on why this young man – Mikk, was it? – would want to leave such a tragic present for you?"

"Because he's deranged," I answer with deep hatred in the low tones of my voice. "Because he wants payback."

"Payback for what?"

"Something I did to him a long, long time ago," I reply vaguely. I can't let them know the truth, because to them, the truth will sound like a complete fib. They might even go as far as to wrap me up in a straight jacket for telling the truth about Tyki and the Noah and my past life.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing that deserves this," I say coldly. All we did was save the world from annihilation! All we did was kill the Earl and fight to protect those we love! What I can't believe is that they've waited all this time to strike back. What I can't believe is that Tyki is alive, when I thought Allen purified his Noah self on the Ark and made Tyki human. And what I really can't believe is that I'm sitting here right now trying my best not to explain all of this to the two men in uniform in front of me.

"Fine, we'll lave that at rest. Onto my next question: what were you doing at approximately nine o' clock last night?"

_Kissing Allen for the first time in over one hundred years, _I think to myself. "I was riding the Ferris Wheel."

"Alone? With no witnesses to prove it?"

"No, Allen was there. And my good friend Linalee Lee saw me – and Allen – get on the ride."

"Can she testify to this?"

"If you need her to, but I don't see why. It would be the sole thing in regards to this case that she could testify to." Man, I sound smart. I guess when I'm nervous and angry and being talked down upon, I can snap back with more wit than I knew I possessed.

"Every little bit helps, son," the man reminds me. He clears his throat and scratches the stubble on his chin. "Next question: did you know the victim?"

"No."

"But didn't you go the local high school?"

"I did… about a year ago. I'm a college freshman now."

"So you didn't know this teacher?"

"No. I never even took drawing or painting."

He smirks and raises an eyebrow. "And how did you know what she teaches?"

Oh, shit. I didn't mean to slip up like that. Okay, no big deal, just take a breath and tell the truth. "I heard an officer telling my grandpa last night. Allen and I were seated right next to them while they were talking."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," I hiss out between my teeth. "And you can prove it by asking Gramps if he had that conversation, which he did."

"Alright, we believe you," the man says. But I know he's just faking it. He's suspicious of me now, even though I didn't do anything wrong.

"Now then… tell me, do you carry any weaponry in your backpack?"

I can feel the heart drain from my face. I feel green and cold all of a sudden. "Weaponry? Like what?"

"…A hammer, perhaps?"

My hammer?! How did they know about that? Whoa, Lavi, settle down. Don't give away your panic. Keep your face deadpan and tell them an excuse. "Yes, I do have one hammer in my backpack that I used in shop class in high school. And now I keep it in there out of habit."

"Habit?"

"Yes."

"Not even for self-defense?"

I swallow hard, my Adam's apple bobbing in my neck. "I suppose I could be used for that, too, if need be. But I've never needed to, so what's the point in asking?"

"Were you carrying this backpack with you last night?" Link butts in to ask, both of them ignoring my question. I guess they thought it was rhetorical. Or maybe they don't feel like answering.

"No, I left it at home."

"Really? Because we found it in your truck."

"What? But I didn't leave it in there!" I burst out.

"Then where did you leave it? In a back alley where you killed Miss Alyce?"

"I left it by my bedroom door! And what are you talking about? I didn't kill her! I was with Allen the entire night since five!" I shout at them, my control broken like a priceless porcelain figurine.

"If you were with Mr. Walker, would you mind explaining how we found his DNA on the body during the autopsy? He didn't leave you for a while, did he? Or perhaps he found a way to fool the coroner's method of discovering the time of death?"

"What? What the bloody hell are you saying?" I growl at them, some of my days in Europe leaking out into my speech. "Allen was with me the entire time. We… we were having fun, and he doesn't know anything about forensics, so how can he fool some medical test? You have to be lying about that DNA, just to mess with my head! Allen would never kill anyone –" except Akuma, but those aren't people, they're living weapons with trapped souls, whom he saves if he can, so he's actually committing a good deed "– So how can you say that you have any evidence against him? I know him better than anyone, and know that what you're saying is downright _impossible_."

"Alright, alright, calm down, son. We understand. But tell us one thing more, and then we'll release you."

I blow out hot air, the angry steam rushing out of me as my nerves kick into overdrive and send violent shakes down my limbs. "Ask, then," I spit at them with my tone.

"What is your relationship to Allen Walker?" Link says from behind Krieg. It's the second thing he's said to me this entire time.

I hesitate. "He's…" _He was/is my friend. He was/is my comrade. He was, and always will be, my soul mate. I can't live without him. I love him so much. He's mine. You can't do this to us. You can't, you can't, you can't…_ my mind races frantically. "I already told you, didn't I? He's my friend."

"What kind of friend?" Link pries.

My lips twitch. "A close friend, alright? Plus, why do you need to know? How does my relationship to him pertain to this?"

Link adjusts his stance so that his arms are crossed and he's leaning back on the wall. "Because, depending on how close you are to this boy, it will tell us if you would be willing to lie for his sake."

Realization creeps up on me like a silent ghost, it's eerie aura swallowing me up. "You think he did it, don't you? You think my Allen killed someone. But you're wrong. If there was indeed DNA on the body, then he was framed. Framed, I tell you! This is all one _giant, _massive lie spun from the finest of spider web!" I screech at them, my temper touching the top of Mount Everest and back.

"I see," Link murmurs. For a moment, his serious face and tone makes me think that he believes me, and that this is over. But only for a moment. Because following this, he says lowly, "You said, 'my Allen'. And you're willing to jump to the framed conclusion very quickly. It makes sense now… you're in love with him."

The green feeling washes over me with stunning brilliance, my vision blanking white for a failing second. My stomach rolls over itself from the tone and words Link used. I want to puke. I want to rid my body of this feeling, of all my insides, of all of the accusations and… and I don't know what else, because my mind is wiping clean, too.

"We have all we need from you, Mr. Deak. You're free to go," Officer Krieg says formally.

I blink back tears of sickness and frustration. I want to scream and cry, to purge every last sensation flowing through me in one burst.

Awkwardly, I stand, and don't say a word as I close my eyes and fall against the wall on my way out. I don't look at Allen, and hide my face from him so that he can't see me. Krieg's voice calls his name, and as the white-haired boy walks past me, he whispers sweetly, "Everything will be fine, Lavi. We've dealt with worse before, so cheer up."

In that instant, I want to smack him. I want to belt how horribly fucked up everything is, and how we've dealt with different variations of the worst, but not this variation. I want to tear a phone book in half and throw it's loose sheets of paper at him and tell him that I can't cheer up, never cheer up, because this is just _so fucked up._ Above all else, I want to tell him that they think he did it, and that he shouldn't say a word while he's in there, and that he needs a lawyer or at least Cross with him.

But I can't perform any of these actions. I'm numb, and on the verge of breaking down. I've only felt this way once in the past: when my other self and myself were trapped within my own mind, with Rhode at the wheel controlling it all. I felt numb, but wanted so badly to attack and sob and throw up everything inside me that felt vile. But, like then, I'm left staring wide-eyed and frozen.

In my first life, I never showed much emotion. In my first life, I was the Lavi that took everything in stride because he had to, and forced himself to smile when all else failed.

But not this time. I'm a different Lavi now; I'm a free one, liberated from the Bookman rules and regulations. I can express emotion if I want to. I don't have to keep smiling or wiping my face of expression.

So why aren't I?

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[11]__  
__._ _Too Far Gone__._


	11. Too Far Gone

**A/N: This chapter is shorter than the previous two, but it's about average length compared to the others. To be honest with you... I'm really unsure about this chapter. But I also don't know how to change it, so I'm going to stick with this. I can work with it, so it's no trouble in the end. I just pray that you guys don't find me working too fast, but frankly, this won't be a super long fanfiction. It most likely wont even stretch to twenty chapters. Sorry if this news disappoints you, but it's what I'm seeing as the future right now. But things could possibly go in a different direction, so we'll see. It all depends on what I choose to do in the next to chapters after this one. Alright?**

* * *

_[11]__  
__.__Too Far Gone__._

When Allen emerges from the interrogation room, my face is devoid of anything negative. Instead, over the course of his questioning, I calmed myself down and brought compassion and comfort into my body to tame the wicked feelings and to be ready for Allen when he needs to come to me for support.

But as soon as he's brought out, they clip handcuffs to his wrists.

Startled and a bit angered, I leap out of my seat and rush to him. "What are you doing?!" I bark at the officers cuffing my Allen.

"He's under arrest as a suspect for the murder of Christine Alyce," Link states mildly.

I scowl and shove my wrists at them. "Then you need to take me in, too. I won't let him rot in the county jail while you set up a court date. Plus, I'm a possible accomplice, aren't I? So you need to take me wherever he goes."

"Lavi…" Allen murmurs softly beside me. "Don't do this."

"Actually," Cross interjects as he comes in between everyone and raises a finger in objection, "They can't do this, so the redhead doesn't need to. See, Allen is a minor, which means he can't be held in a county jail. At least not in this state. So they have to instead tail you with an investigator or put you under house arrest. They can't keep you."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Okay, so many I don't entirely dislike Cross. He has his moments. "Thank you," I mouth to him.

The man winks, but it's not directed at me. It's directed at his nephew.

"In that case," Link says steadily as he gives a glance in Officer Krieg's direction, "We would like you, Mr. Cross Marian, to sign consent forms for allowing me access to monitor your son's actions while at home. Nothing much, simply a timed house arrest anklet that will be active all of the time of the day outside of his hours at school. While he is at school, I will be in the building looking out for suspicious behavior and communicating with his peers for information. Before this interrogation I already received a fax from the Head of the school board, Mr. Levrier, confirming his permission of my presence on school grounds. Also, I personally will be searching his locker for evidence."

"Great," I mutter under my breath, "So Allen's old stalker strikes again."

"Did you say something, Mr. Deak?" Howard Link shoots at me.

"Nothing I want you to hear," I answer stiffly. I only ever liked Link for one reason: when Allen wanted to escape the investigator, he would come to me for a distraction. Other than that, Link was always someone I got jealous of quickly. And it seems that I'm going to get jealous again, if Old Howdy-on-Duty tries to get up close and personal with Allen.

Link sends me a look, but it's just as easily dismissed as it was brought on. "I feel we have nothing further to discuss. You are free to go. Later today, we will drop by to equip Mr. Walker with his anklet. Good day, sirs," Link responds firmly before turning and exiting the room. He disappears into an office with the words 'chief investigator' printed on the window.

"Come on, Allen, let's blow this joint," I murmur agitatedly. I grip his arm a bit too strongly as I lead him out of the station. Our guardians follow behind, not bothering to say much of anything. I can tell that Cross is feeling rather… well, _cross_, and Gramps is feeling much the same. Out of the four of us, Allen seems to be the lone person who is level-headed. But I think it's mostly because he's numb. When he's ready, he'll probably tell me all of the things they said to him, and what they asked him. I'm dying to know.

When we reach our cars, there's a girl leaning against the 'no parking zone' post, a bubble of gum expanding form her mouth. "I take it things didn't go too well?" she smirks.

"Rhode," I curse under my breath. Allen's blank face droops into a scowl. Oblivious, Cross and Gramps get into their cars and wait for us. But Allen and I aren't moving.

"So you know my name?" she says with a light smile.

"We know what you are," I reply hotly. I clench my fist until my nails dig into my palm. "You aren't fooling us, not this time. But what I want to know is: why aren't you dead? I thought you burnt to a crisp on the Ark?"

Her smile twists unnaturally, her golden eyes flickering like a smoldering flame. "Some tricks are better played than others," she chuckles darkly. "And sometimes, when you wish to live forever, your wish is granted."

"Have you been waiting for us all this time?" I hear Allen rasp out.

"If you mean that I've been outside of the police station, then my answer is no. But if you meant my entire life thus far, waiting until you two were reincarnated again… then yes." Rhode pops her gum at the end like a final period marking our soon-to-be finish. "Uncle Tyki, Lulubell and I have been waiting for you two to appear again. We've been planning and planning all this time, praying for our chance to get our revenge. And now that you're old enough – about he same age as you were when we knew you – you're able to understand and possibly remember why it is we would be doing this."

"This can't go on, you know!" I hiss at her, my face growing closer to hers as I raise my fists to about chest height. "I see what you're doing. And I can stop you."

Behind me, my grandfather honks the horn. It's like he doesn't even know that Rhode is here.

"You can't stop us, Lavi-dear," she murmurs in a tone that sends an array of goosebumps along my arms. "We're just too clever for you."

And she laughs, and Allen cringes, and I want to scream, all in one simultaneous second. But then a light bulb goes off in my brain. "Rhode," I say carefully, my tone calmer, "Have you seen Tyki? I'd like a word with him."

"He thought you might say that. He told me that if you did, I should give you this," she sighs, her eyes rolling in annoyance at my lack of attention on her. She hands me a bar napkin with a date and time written on it, the bar name circled. "Bad luck, Lavi-dear," she smirks, wishing me the worst instead of the best. It's then that she turns to Allen and before I can stop her, leans in to pinch his cheek. "You're still as cute as I remember, Allie," Rhode coos. Then, as I'm reaching over to rip her hand away, she pulls away long enough to slap Allen across the face. "But I still hate you!"

I'm about to attack her, a roar building in the back of my throat, when she dashes off down the street, her gum flinging to the ground behind her. Beside me, Allen's cheek reddens with a handprint mark. He touches it lightly. "I can't believe what's been happening to me today," he mumbles in a hurt tone. "I wish things stayed as good as they began this morning."

I drape my hand over her shoulder. I notice that Cross's car is gone; he must have gotten impatient, or assumed that Allen was going to come home with me again. I suppose it's for the best; with the way Allen's acting, it's clear that he's still in need of me.

"I know, love," I whisper into his ear as we walk back to my grandfather's vehicle. "But things will brighten up. I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think I like that vengeful tone in your voice, Lavi," he replies as I open the door.

I chuckle mystically, as if I know the future and he doesn't. "You shouldn't," I tell him as I, too, climb into the car. "But you can't stop me from doing what I now know I have to do."

"I figured as much."

o0-0o

Puddle of Mudd blasts in my room as I throw together a mesh of clothing, a fake ID, money in cash, and body spray onto my bed. I slide on the clothes in layers, stick the ID in my back pocket, stuff the money in my front pocket on the opposite side, and shoot the spray all over me to mask the scent of the shower I skipped today.

It's Thursday presently, four days following the police station incident. Today is the date scribbled in classy scroll across the crumpled bar napkin, and it's about half an hour before the time written beneath it. The bar itself is a gay bar, which makes me terribly weary since I'm already taken, but after discussing it with Allen I've figure out a way to be safe: only use my ID to get in, but not to order drinks (or take any offered). That way, I won't get drunk or drugged, and won't end up in someone else's bed tomorrow. It's a shamefully paranoid thought, I know, but you can never be too careful. I would do the exact same thing even if I was going to the usual 'straight' bar in town.

On Sunday, Allen and I had spent our time on my couch watching movies, our bodies huddled together as if our lived depended on the shared body warmth. He wouldn't let go of me that day, and I didn't want to let go of him. There are new forces shoved upon us, some of which are similar (if not completely the same) as they were in the past. I hate how history tends to repeat itself time and time again. It pisses me off. Why can't we simply _be_?

I won't lie; somewhere between movie two and movie five, Allen and I stirred up both serious conversations and deep kisses. I don't know which meant more to me, since the talking included problem-solving and confessions, but the kissing included passion and escape. Although neither of us said the magic words (_I love you_), I could feel them dangling in the air between us. Allen told me that no matter what, he wasn't about to let the Noahs tear us apart or ruin our lives. I promised him that when I met with Tyki, I would accomplish exactly that. He had smiled and kissed me again, and I had timidly touched his skin as I kissed back.

I think, with all the support from Allen, there's plenty of resolve in my mind to carry out my plans.

My plans are this: to interfere with Allen's framed situation and either trick, persuade, or blackmail Tyki Mikk into ceasing his damn revenge operation. If I have to, I will give up my life to clear Allen's name.

I turn to my stereo and click the off switch, the _Famous_ CD by the aforementioned rock band stopping mid-spin. Then, with a wave to Gramps and a push on the remote on my car keys, I head out the door into the fresh late-October air.

It takes me about ten minutes to get to the bar. The entire ride, I sat silent and paced my breathing. Now, as I step up into the brightly colored neon lights and the bouncer at the front checks my ID and flashes me a creepy grin, I can feel my nerves escalating to dangerous levels. I feel cold and hot at the same time, my innards icy but my flesh white hot.

At the head of the bar next to the bartender and nearest to the dance floor, I see Tyki sitting up on a stool. I recognize him by his hair and his strangely familiar silken top hat. I breathe in heavily and let it out slowly to calm some of my nerves. Around me, guys look me over with hungry eyes, and I try to focus on my target. I attempt to drag my anger to the surface with thoughts of injustice. _Allen, the boy you love most in the world, was framed by the guy in front of you. He's innocent, but he could be sentenced to a life in prison when he's older because of this man. Remember what Tyki has done, and what he is doing. Remember, and feel that furious burn in your chest. _

It works. I can feel my nerves ebbing to the back of my mind as I pace closer to the taller, slightly older Noah. I take my sit on the stool beside him and open my mouth to speak first. But he cuts me off before a single sound comes out.

"Why, if it isn't Lavi Deak," Tyki grins, his head inclining towards me. He tips the brim of his hat upwards, a few curls of his dark brown hair spilling onto his forehead. "I see you're not as much of a coward as I thought you were. Congratualtions."

"I didn't come here to listen to you patronizing me. I came here on business," I retort sharply.

The bartender steps over to us suddenly. He's smiling lightly and placing a hand on his hip. "Would you like a drink, cutie?" he flirts heavily. He's one of those girly, cheerful gays, the kind that reminds me of Jack from the sitcom Will & Grace. He even has the same lanky build as Jack, only his hair is blonde and dyed pink on the tips of his sideways bangs.

"I'm not much of a drinker, thanks," I answer in a forcefully polite voice. "I'm just here to negotiate something with him," I add after a second of thought. I point my thumb in Tyki's direction.

The bartender pouts. "Aw, so you're taken, then? …Unless… you two are breaking up?"

"Yes, I'm taken, but not by this guy. He's far from a romantic interest, thank you," I grumble as I pick at a napkin I find near my elbow. "Anyway, if you'll excuse us, we have some issues to work out." I hate it when people butt in and stick their noses where they shouldn't. It's none of this bartender's damn business what Tyki and I are doing here. He should have stopped talking as soon as I said that I didn't want a drink. Tch.

"Alright, alright," he bartender sighs. "I have customers to attend to, anyhow." And he marches back down the bar to respond to an order.

Shaking my head, I shoot a glare at Tyki, who seems highly amused by my small spat with the bartender. "Now then, tell me what the fuck you Noahs are doing by framing Allen."

"Temper, temper!" Tyki says defensively as he raises his hands in mock surrender. "Are we not here to converse like gentlemen?"

"Not when you're trying to get my boyfriend and I in some deep shit," I snap coldly. "How the hell did you pull it off, anyhow? The cops said that Allen's DNA was on that woman's body, but he wasn't anywhere near her!"

He laughs, his voice shockingly loud against the music. "Lavi, my boy, I know you're smarter than that. Don't you remember what my abilities are?"

"You can pass through solid objects," I retort. "You tore the organs out of bodies without so much as a poked hole on the surface. You're a sick bastard, which means I know that you killed that poor teacher. But what I want to know is how you got Allen's DNA on her!"

"I can pass through solid objects," Mikk repeats for emphasis, "Which means… I could have easily slipped into someone's home and collected the DNA I needed, no?"

I blink as the possibility of – no, the _truth_ of – this dawns on me. My fingers grip the wood of the bar with painful strength. "So that's how my backpack wound up in my car when I know that left it in my room. You went to my house, and Allen's, and place everything where it needed to be in order to get us in trouble… And with your damn ability, none of your fingerprints would show up on anything, so you could have easily killed and dumped the body in my truck…" I bite down on my own teeth, the hard clatter of bone on bone ringing in my ears. "How did you get our addresses? And why did you choose that day, of all days? Why, right when everything was going so well, did you…?!"

"Keep your voice down, boy," Tyki grins. That fucking smile hasn't left his lips yet, and it's royally pissing me off. "And would you stop swearing? It's ugly."

"Answer my questions!" I hiss between my grinding teeth.

"I got your addresses from your schools' computer files. Everything you figures out is true, of 'course. And as for why… well, it's because everything was going so well that I had to ruin it. The three of us – Lulubell, Rhode and myself – are the last of our family, the only ones to have survived. And yet everyone from the order that I've encountered in the past have been reincarnated and spread across the world. It wasn't until I came to this rat-hole town in the States that we found Allen Walker and yourself. And after we watched you both for a while and saw how you two came together, we knew that we had to take action now before things got serious. After all," Tyki reminds me as his smile turns frosty and faker than it was a moment ago, "It was the bond between Allen and yourself that led to our destruction. All of us; the Akuma, dear Earl-sama, and the rest of my family. Because of… of that _love _you two shared –" The way he says the word 'love' is equivalent to the way someone might say 'cow manure' or 'vomit' "– Everything I cared about came crashing down. So, as payment, we are going to destroy your lives."

His smile contorts into a sinister grin lined with the ghostly whispers of maniacal laughter. I shrink back slightly, the hairs on the back of my neck rising with oncoming fear.

Swallowing hard, I bend an imaginary shield of confidence around me. "I will stop you, Tyki. It won't come to that. Allen has some of his innocence in his new body, and his left eye can track you like it used to with Akuma. You won't be able to hide; I can expose you to the authorities, and if that fails, then I can kill you myself. Like I told Rhode, this won't go on."

For a minute there, I truly believed my own words. They sounded fierce and threatening.

And yet Tyki starts to laugh. Loudly, as if no one else is in the bar. It's a laugh of pure insanity. "Now then, you wouldn't want these authorities to know that you're having sex with a minor, would you? After all, you're legally an adult, but Walker isn't… Besides, if you opted to ignore this blackmail and kill me instead, then the authorities will definitely have a murder on their hands, with my blood staining you guilty."

I bite my lip. "But I'm not having sex with him, and even if I was, you couldn't prove it. And as for the murder… well, I could handle the consequences if I knew that you were finally sent to hell."

"Maybe you're not sexually involved with him yet, but how would the police know? There are plenty of ways to prove that it's true." His tone is cocky, his eyes fiery with more that of insanity. "And for the record, I've seen Hell. It doesn't scare me anymore."

I'm caught at an impasse. I can't say anything more without him trapping me further, and I have nothing more to say that isn't completely unintelligent. So I stand, preparing myself to leave. "Fine, Tyki. You win this round. But I'll come up with something… I'm not going to sit by and let all of this happen without a fight."

"A fight?" Tyki says curiously with a slightly cock of his head. He leans down over his drink, his chin coming to rest against his knuckles. "Now there's the word I've been waiting to hear."

I freeze in place. "You're doing all this… to get us to fight you?"

"I could use Lulubell to impersonate anyone in the police force, her orders being to drop all the charged against Allen."

My mind works slowly, trying to piece this all together. "And… you'll do this if… we _fight _you."

"Bingo," he says with a point of his fingers like a gun firing in the air. "A fight to the death would make for much sweeter revenge than making you and Allen rot in jail for the rest of his life, don't you agree?" He pauses as I stand there, mouth agape in stupefaction. "Although, Rhode and Lulu might be a bit angry with me for settling on some sort of battle. Still," he says with a casual sigh, "It would please me more."

I jerk my head. "What if I face you, one on one? Would you make Lulubell drop Allen's charges?"

He shakes his head. "Nope, I want both of you in my clutches. I want to fight you both, I want both of you to die. I can't have one without the other."

"Even the mercy Allen showed you in the Ark doesn't free him from your hatred?" I scowl. My fists are hardening at my sides. If he says one thing more about his fighting business, I don't know what I'll do. All I know is, this is getting out of hand.

"He didn't show mercy! Mercy would have been to finish me off, or not fight me back at all!" he retorts sharply. Someone at the bar glances at us briefly. "So I want a battle. A bloody one, in which one or all of us die. You and Allen against Rhode and me. No one else. We'll pick a secluded area, and Lulu will keep watch. If you and Allen win, Lulu will free you two of charges; you can watch her do it, and then you can kill her. Don't worry, we Noah die without leaving a trace; you won't be caught with murder," he remarks. I can see the desperation gleaming in his sharp eyes.

"So you were bluffing before."

"About murdering me? Yes," he tells me.

"…Why do you want this, Tyki? Why are you getting rid of such a brilliant plan to frame and torture? I'm glad for your change of mind – it obviously gives me the upper hand – but it doesn't make sense. Have you lost your marbles, Tyki? Have the years worn you down to nothing but a man scrounging for blood?"

My words strike him like the blade of a knife across the face. He reels backwards. "I have not! It does make sense. It doesn't give you the upper hand. It… shut up, alright? This conversation is over. Just shut up and leave, Lavi Deak."

His changing moods are dumbfounding me, but I take his order to leave as a gift. I run out of the gay bar and hurry to my car.

As soon as I'm inside, I lock the doors and flip open my cell phone. I hold down the number three, and my speed dial calls Allen's home. He answers after the second ring. "Lavi?!"

"Allen…" I burst out, my breath coming out in a short gasp. "I don't know what just happened in there, but I think Tyki's lost it."

"What?! Did he hurt you?"

"No, but… first, he was acting all sneaky, then he told me what he did, and then he tried to blackmail me, and then he demanded that we fight him. I think, under his mask of cocky bullshit, he's some kind of rabid animal looking for any bite he can get."

Allen's silent for a minute. "That sounds… bizarre."

"It's was."

"…So, uh, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know yet. Let's wait this out for a little while, and see if any of the Noahs try to contact us again. Something tells me that Tyki has some things to tell Rhode and Lulubell after what he spilled to me tonight," I sigh tiredly. This whole event has left me emotionally exhausted.

"Rhode and Lulubell? You mean there's no one else? Not Skin, or any of the other Noah?"

"That's right," I nod as I switch my cell phone to the other ear. "I don't know why, but it's only those three. Makes it easier for us, though; at least we know that we don't have over half a dozen of them to face."

"True," Allen agrees. He then makes a noise, but I don't know what kind of noise it is. But it sounds thoughtful, like there is an inner debate being made with himself.

"Okay, I'm going to go now, Allen. I have to drive home. I'll see you tomorrow at our usual time."

"Okay, I'll see you at four o' clock, then."

"Goodbye, love."

"Bye, Lavi…"

As I'm about to hang up, I hear Allen's say something small and softly concerned.

"… And be careful."

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**Next chapter:**

_[12]__  
__.__Explicit Instructions__._


	12. Explicit Instructions

**A/N: YES, I KNOW THAT THIS TOOK ME FOREVER TO TYPE UP, AND IT'S NOT EVEN THAT LONG, BUT BEAR IN MIND THAT I'M A LAZY SONUVABITCH AND HAD TOTAL WRITER'S BLOCK AND ENDED UP CHANGING MY MIND ON THE EVENTS IN THIS CHAPTER/STORY ABOUT A DOZEN TIMES.**

**So... yeah. I'm majorly uber very-much sorry. I really am. But you have this chapter now, FINALLY, and the next will be out by tonight because I'm going to write it RIGHT NOW. Okee dokee? :D**

**Review please. The more I get, the faster I'll write; It's a provn fact! ;P**

* * *

_[12]__  
__.__Explicit Instructions__._

The first order of business has to be a meeting of the minds. Or something of that nature. Because as much as I don't like saying it, I need Kanda's help on this one. And I wouldn't mind Linalee's as well. Plus, if you ask me, these sorts of things need to be handled in groups, and with the assistance of friends. Otherwise I would be pushin' up daisies, since Tyki and his gang are people not to be messed with or dealt with by oneself.

But I have to go about this with care. I can't lay an anvil's worth of information on them willy-nilly! …Oh God, just being stressed out this much about, 'what to do, what to do?' that I'm starting to use phrases like "order of business", "meeting of the minds", and "willy-nilly". Who am I, my grandfather? Hmm. Maybe being such a big reader and previous Bookman (I mean the title, not the last name, since I've had both) has made me resort to ridiculous measures. And here I thought that I was emotionally drained; well, I guess there's still some emotion left in me tonight.

No matter. What I should keep my focus on is giving Linalee, Kanda and Allen some explicit instructions, ones that are well thought out and planned in a manner that can be flexible in case the unexpected occurs, but stable enough to save our asses if the situation becomes dire.

But man, I can't come up with a plan like that while driving home so late at night. Thoughts like that can give me a migraine, and migraines can impair night-vision, and if my night-vision is impaired then I can't drive, and if I can't drive then I won't be able to be careful like Allen said to be, and… and…

And I really need to turn on some music to shut out all these panicky, haywire thoughts; they're getting to be _ridiculous._

I reach for the dial on my radio and turn it on while I slow to a stop at a red light. I crank up the volume a bit, to the point where the bass can't be heard outside of my car, but inside is obnoxiously loud in a way that my thinking patterns are practically silent, save for the automatic thoughts about how to drive home.

The music that filters in as the light turns green again is something old, from the eighties, and sounding vaguely like Billy Idol or some shit, but I can't be sure. I don't know my eighties dance/rock music that well. My knowledge is limited to whatever Gramps plays, and whatever I choose to listen to (which is stuff I usually discover through the internet on various websites).

I change the radio station to something more practical: mindless, non-lyrical techno. I zone out a little as the thrumming music rubs my nerves clean. I take a deep breath, and pull into a gas station to buy a bottle of water and fill up my slowly emptying gas tank. More music plays while I head home, and as I pull into the driveway, the last song fades away with the turn of my keys. I simply sit for a small moment, letting everything wash over me.

So I might be getting into some kind of battle pretty soon; so what? I've faced worse in the past… Or, at least, I keep using this excuse to reassure myself that things aren't that bad.

So I might have to explain a few too-insane-to-believe things to my only friends; so what? I've told worse stories that were the truth (like explaining some of our shared past to Allen).

I can only hope that they recognize it as the truth and fight with me, because I'm also told lies before and have died in battle because I thought I could make it on my own in order to protect those I love.

o0-0o

Allen and I got together two days following my meeting with Tyki, and we conversed with Kanda and Linalee together, all four of us in the same cramped room at once, with Irish breakfast tea for myself, blackberry for Kanda, white for Linalee, and an 'English Brunch' blend for Allen. I found a few of our personal choices in tea rather telling of our heritage, but I'm digressing.

What occurred in the meeting couldn't be bumpier. It was like one long rocky road, filled with potholes and gravel and scattered branches from flimsy trees. There were moments in the conversation where I could only sink into my mug and sip languidly at the slowly cooling beverage, and times where we sat a moment in silence, stunned by a wave of déjà vu. Because, as time moved forward and the explanation progressed into a miniature plan of action, Linalee and Kanda had a revelation: they were familiar with these foes. And it was all Allen and I needed in order to convince them that what was going on – like Allen's newly bleached-looking hair and the crusty red that was spreading up his arm, enveloping it in it's unique appearance as it swallowed his skin, as well as the irritated scar over his eye – was real, and necessary, and improbable but not impossible.

Which brings us up to the current instant in time, in which I'm leaning against the mantle of my fireplace and dangling an empty mug from my hand as I look at my friends, waiting for their reactions and responses to everything I've said about Tyki and the Noah (we didn't dig too deeply into the Exorcist thing, so not to overwhelm them), and everything Allen's told them about the situation with himself and the police.

"This is… a lot to take in," Linalee exhales softly, her big, sweet eyes closing for a moment in thought. Beside her, her boyfriend slides his hand over her knee and rubs soothingly. I never expected Yuu to be a caring person, but I suppose, under the right circumstances…

"I know. It was a lot for me to handle, too, but then I got _caught up in it_, and **now** look where we are," Allen answers her solemnly, stressing his key points with a twinge of aggravation in his tone.

"Che," Kanda clicks his tongue as if to scoff at something, "It's nothing we can't take care of by ourselves."

"So that means that you're going to support us? _Help_ us?" Allen says eagerly, his voice not hiding the relief and strength building inside him.

"Of 'course we are!" Linalee bursts out as she gets to her feet in one movement. "We're your friends, and if you think we're going to stand back and watch as you two get into a mess of trouble without having done anything wrong, then you don't know us that well!" She has that fire in her, the kind of spark she gets occasionally that became part of the reason why, in my past life, I admired her. Linalee stomps her foot, the heel of her boot clacking dully on the rug over my wooden floors. "We'll always be here for the both of you, no matter what," she says firmly. Then, softer, she adds with a wink, "We've done it before. And who knows? Maybe we can get more help from Miranda, and maybe even Mr. Krory. They're our friends, too."

The most shimmering of smiles graces Allen's mouth, filling his eyes with such a calm expression it makes my heart warm up my whole chest just by looking at it. "Thank you, Linalee," Allen murmurs sweetly, and with a serious expression, cups one of her hands in his mismatched ones. "You're such a good friend." He releases her hand and glances over at Kanda. "…And I guess you kind of are, too, even if you are an idiot."

"Don't get comfortable, bean sprout," the other grunts. "I'm only doing this for Lina's sake, not for yours."

So he says, but all four of us know that Kanda feels some sort of comradeship towards Allen, the kind in which he knows that he has to watch Allen's back, guarding him like he would family, because that is what comrades are, in a vague sense of the word. I'm not very fond of the bastard myself, but I'd do the same for Kanda if the situation called for it. And in his case for Allen and me, the situation is definitely calling for it.

"I think Allen and I should visit Mr. Krory and Miss Lotto together, and explain everything like we did for you two," I tell the happy hetero couple.

"No, I need to come with. Miranda might be older than me, but she's my best friend. I need to be there with her when she hears the news," Linalee states firmly. "Besides, you don't have that much tact when you speak, Lavi; you'll need me to make the conversation a bit more…" She struggles for the proper word. "_Graceful._"

I roll my eyes, but agree. "Yeah, sure, whatever. But does that mean that Kanda-kun is –"

"_I told you not to call me that,_" the Japanese man growls venomously.

"– Going to be coming along, too?" I finish, pretending I hadn't heard him.

"I dunno," Linalee puzzles out with an adorably innocent frown of confusion on her face. She turns to her boyfriend. "Are you coming, Yuu?"

"Don't count on it," he says grumpily. "I barely know the depressed hermit, and Miss Lotto is more of an acquaintance to me. So I'll pass. You three can chat with them all you like, but I'll be at home, sitting on my ass, reading. Or beating the shit out of my punching bag; whichever comes first."

"Okay, hun," Linalee nods. She pats Kanda's head and smiles. "Maybe you can finish reading that Swan Song book you like so much."

"I will be, thanks," he retorts. He downs the remainder of his tea, which I'm sure has long since gone cold, and then stands abruptly. "I'm going to leave now."

"Us, too," I say. "We're going to head over to Allen's to see Kro-chan. I'm betting that he's with Miranda, which will save us some time."

"How d'ya know?" Allen asks.

"And what did you just call him?" Linalee butts in to giggle.

"It's a gut feeling," I reply, indirectly answering both questions at once. It's like a gut feeling I have, knowing that the two are together; and also a gut feeling to keep insisting on calling him Kro-chan, as weird as it is. It kinda freaks me out, though, that I keep slipping back into my old, _old_ ways. Especially now, as opposed to years prior.

Shaking it off, I chase Allen out the door as he heads towards my reliable truck, both of us prepared to take on the challenge of speaking to our superiors (in age, at least).

o0-0o

When we pull up into Arystar Krory's driveway, something doesn't feel right. Allen tenses in the passenger seat, not even unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Lavi…" he murmurs while he breathes a tad too harshly. There's urgency and fear in the depths of his tone.

Behind us in the small back seat, Linalee picks up on it. "What's wrong?" she asks, leaning forward to touch Allen's arm.

He utters one word. "Noah."

"Here? Now?" I question, anger and anxiety building up in my chest, pressing down on my lungs. I scowl as I dig my fingernails into the steering wheel. "Tell me where. I'll _kill_ them."

"No!" Linalee hisses. "You can't kill someone, Lavi! That won't solve anything, and Allen is already suspected of murder –"

"It's an expression, Lina," I retort hotly. "But you're right. I can't overreact." I exhale slowly, pausing to collect my thoughts. "Do you have any idea which one of them it is, Allen?" I ask him in a whisper.

The white-haired boy suddenly undoes his seatbelt and shoots out of the car. Startled, Linalee and I rush to follow suit.

We become a tag-team behind him, watching with our eyes the bounce and bob of so-blond-it's-white hair in the distance, approximately fifty meters ahead of us; who knew the boy could run so fast? He must be (or has been) on the track team; it would surprise me if he isn't (or wasn't, depending on what he had done in middle school).

The three of us wind up in a small field behind Krory's and Allen's homes that leads into a miniature wooded area. And there, standing in the center, is a very familiar-looking girl with bright golden eyes and indigo hair. She grins wickedly, playfully, and knowingly, all at once.

"Hullo, you three," she coos.

"Rhode!" Allen snaps in her direction, and beside me, Linalee whispers a question about the Noah girl, but I have nothing to say as I am frozen stiff.

"Allen, I've missed you," she purrs. "But I've also been aching for the longest time for some payback."

"Now's not the time or place, Rhode," I find my own voice retorting in a shout, despite the light haze over my mind and paralysis of my body. "Tyki said –"

"I know what Tyki said!" she snarls, her persona shifting in a bipolar manner, from pleasant to searing in seconds. She crosses her arms over her lean chest and sneers with an upwards curl of her lip, "My stupid uncle acted on impulse, and fucked up our plans." It sounded strange to hear the f-word come from such a young-looking girl. But she is well over one hundred by now. "But no matter. It can be fixed… with a little push in the right direction."

"What type of push?" Allen prods.

I feel Linalee's long fingers wrap around my arm like a tourniquet as she inches forward, clearly wanting to support Allen, but finding difficulty in doing so. She wants to drag me along as well, knowing that we need to be closer.

"This type," she responds, her voice whimsically toned once more. She withdraws a goldenrod envelope and sends it aloft with a Frisbee throw.

My feet somehow manage to move, and I come up beside Allen as he retracts to his initial spot in the elongated grass around us to open the envelope. His fingers shake and struggle to reveal the contents of it, so Linalee takes it form his hands and with surer motions, yanks out the contents. I grab hold of Allen's deformed left hand, which throbs dully in my own with seemingly it's own heartbeat, and drive for revenge.

Linalee's gasp forces my head to jerk to the side, staring blankly at her. With wide, horror-filled eyes, she bites her lip and shows Allen and me three snapshots.

Each of the three is marked with a different date in the corner in orange numbering, and each of the three holds two very familiar subjects in the photos: Miranda and Krory.

The first snapshot is of the two at the Octoberfest, sharing a chaste kiss.

The second is of the two through Krory's front window, sharing a glass of wine in his living room, and in it, Krory is actually smiling.

And the third… has today's date on it, and in the photo, the two are lying on a wood floor together, appearing to be asleep – Miranda's head in Krory's lap, his own head bowed above her – but there are ropes binding their limbs and duct tape over their mouths. Scribbled off to the side of their bodies in this last photo, written in green metallic marker, is the symbol for the American dollar.

They were being spied on, and then taken hostage. For _ransom. _

The realization strikes me with such great force that I sway for a moment, and it takes a squeeze of Allen's hand still joined with mine to being me back to reality again. Within seconds, Allen and I are yelling incoherently and charging after Rhode.

She calmly awaits our attack.

In our dust tracks, Linalee bursts out with a short, "DON'T!"

But there's no stopping us. Both of our bodies collide with Rhode, and she smiles, and I pin her to the ground with a grunt as Allen stands over her, panting, his arm transformed, clawed and razor-sharp within an inch of the vulnerable flesh of her neck.

Yet she's grinning up a storm, her golden eyes lit with a flickering fire, something smoldering and impish and insane laced in every fiber of her expression. "That dollar sign doesn't mean money, you know," Rhode cackles. "It means that you have to _pay._ And we're going back to the original plan as much as we possibly can, and in order to do so, Lulubell suggested that we kidnap your friends and hold them ransom, our request being that you go to the police and confess. Confess to murder, Allen Walker, and _you,_ Lavi Deak, to being an accomplice… and we'll simply hand your friends over. It's as easy as that!" She pauses to swallow, her neck veering deadly near the blade of Allen's middle finger. "Although…" she begins mildly. Her eyes close smugly while she whispers cheerfully, "We can't guarantee that they will be _utterly_ unharmed."

A throaty noise unlike what a human should be able to create sprouts from Allen's mouth, rumbling like thunder and brutally malevolent. "I'm sick of your shit, Rhode," he barks in her face, leaning down to her eye level. I falter for a moment in my own anger to glance dumbfounded at my love. What has gotten into him?

He suddenly lashes out, and it's all I can do to pull Rhode with me as I roll over to dodge his blow. "Allen!" I yell, and he trips over himself as he halts his muscles' inertia midair and tumbles to his knees. Rhode is laughing, crying like a bawling baby and laughing hysterically, and I ignore her as I move her to one side and crawl towards Allen. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Linalee is stationary with unconceivable fear. "Allen, snap out of it! This isn't like you."

He groans and brings his two hands – one white and clawed, the other small and human – to his hair, clenching but not hurting, and straining to keep himself together. "I feel so… so _angry,_ Lavi. Like… like I want to _kill_ something from the power of my wrath. It's… it's _disturbing._ Help me."

He adds the last part softly, and only audible to me. I shush him soothingly and gather as much of his smaller frame into my arms as I can. I can hear Rhode's hysterics ringing in my ears, but it's thinning to a low wail. The Noah girl sounds so… broken. She's never seemed so much a child to me as she does now, despite her childish appearance.

"I'm here for you, Allen," I comfort him tenderly. "Remember? I told you that night I slept over. I'm _always _here." It sounds like a lame chick-flick romance movie when it leaves my lips, but I can't come up with anything else, because 'I'm here' says exactly what I mean, the whole truth of it, and it says precisely what needs to be said.

Allen clings to me, his arm scratching my back through my clothing, but I don't care. I've held him through so many trials that this seems pale in comparison. He isn't crying, not even close, but he _is _shaking something fierce. It reminds me of a single leaf caught in the whirlwind of a hurricane, desperate to hold on but not afraid to let go, only afraid to be torn to pieces from it's own turning about. To be reduced to something ugly from it's own actions. Yeah, I know exactly how Allen must feel.

"Lavi…" he mumbles feeblemindedly, "I love you."

My heart nearly stops. He's said this to me multiple times in the past – he said it more than I did, just to make sure that I was reminded that I have feelings, too, Bookman or not – but he hasn't said it this time around. To be honest, I doubted if he loved me enough to say it, or if he realized how much I love him, despite what slipped when we were on the Ferris Wheel together. But I guess, now, in this shattering-glass-swan-statue moment (that's what my grandfather calls fragile times), he knows. And he can verbally express it because he sees that it's true.

I kiss his forehead and cradle him to me. On my back, I feel his left arm revert to it's dormant form. "I will love you forever, Allen," I tell him. "But right now, we have to take care of some business. Am I right?"

He nods against my chest before pulling away. His chest heaves with one long breath. "Since when have you been wrong?" he says. I can think of a couple times, especially in this lifetime, but he silences me with his lips on mine. It's a brief kiss, but it's enough to being my strength back up. He pulls me to my feet, and for a blinking second, I think about how much stronger a teen three years my junior is compared to me.

We face Rhode, and find her sitting in the grass in a daze. "Tyki will be so mad at me," she pouts, but there is hardly any gusto in her tone; it's like she doesn't give a shit what happens to her. She sighs. "I was supposed to tell you where the rendezvous point will be, if you decide to face us head-on, skipping the confession, in an attempt to save your friends' lives without getting into prison. But hey, if you want to destroy me instead, I have no problems with that. Maybe I'll go wherever all the other Noah are, and where Master Earl is…"

"I'm not going to kill you, Rhode," Allen remarks with a surprisingly moderate tone. His expression is placid, but I can see pity in the cadet blue depths of his eyes.

"And why not?" she screams, bellowing a sharp cry from the back of her throat. Tears stream down her tan face. "Why won't you kill me? I've been waiting decades for some kind of resolve, some kind of fulfillment, and I've found nothing! _Nothing!_ There's no joy in this game any longer, no satisfaction in living. I'm tired, so very-very tired, and I'm sick of being Tyki's revenge puppet! Lulubell seems to be having fun, but I'm not! Candy doesn't taste the same to my body, and I feel so old inside but look sickeningly young, and… and…"

I suddenly feel extremely sorry for her. My heart is doing nauseating twists in regret, because of some of the things I was thinking about doing to her because of who she kidnapped and what she did to Allen. My fury looks trivial.

Allen stoops down beside Rhode and places his fleshy right hand on her wiry shoulder, which is covered in orange and magenta rings from her long-sleeved shirt under her purple dress. She sniffs and leans into his touch. "I'm sorry, Allen. I'm sorry. It was fun, back in the day. I had fun flirting and toying with you and your emotions. It was fun to torment and tease and play. But not any more. It's really violent and screwed up now, and I hate it. Really-for-truly _hate_ it. I want out. I want out so badly. So, please… I know that your anti-Akuma weapon has evolved and modified with this reincarnation to be an anti-Noah weapon. I know that, instead of demons, you see us with your left eye. So I'm asking you… _Please,_ Allen… end my life."

I can see each emotion flood Allen's face, from shock to pain to sorrow to compassion and determination. He stands, and Rhode bows her head. "Alright."

I do a double-take. "Wh-what? 'Alright?' '_Alright?!_' You… you're seriously going to kill her?" I sputter.

Linalee rushes forward to grab Allen's arm. "No! No, Allen, you can't! She's just a little girl –"

"Who has been a little girl for over one hundred years. A demented little girl who is past the point of being mentally cared for. She needs to rest, and I'm the only one who can do it. It's like when I released the souls inside of Akuma… I had to end their lives in order to set them free," Allen explains with a tone I recognize; it's a tone I haven't heard from him since our first life.

Hanging my head, I nod. "His reasoning is justified, Linalee. I know that it looks cruel, but you have to understand…" I drift off. I don't know if she is capable of understanding this; she never could entirely understand before.

Tears start to run down the Chinese girl's face, but she relinquishes her hold on Allen's arm. "Okay," she murmurs. "Okay," she repeats in a whisper. She takes a step backward, then another, and turns away. "Do it. I won't look."

I don't know what I'm expecting, but as the moment draws near, I expect anything from Rhode's false death in the Ark – all ashes and soot in a dusty explosion as dry and crackling as baked sand – to a human death, all blood and guts and squishing noises like wet noodles and crunching bones.

I expect anything, but what ends up being revealed to my eyes is far from the death I thought I would see, because this death is more like a rebirth than anything else.

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[13]__  
__.__Doom's Day Report__._


	13. Doom's Day Report

**A/N: See, I _told_ you that my next update wouldn't be so far away! And you all doubted me, didn't you? Silly readers~ ;D**

**Enjoy the semi-fillerness of this chapter. And then the next chapter will be UBER long (which means it will take some time to write) and packed to the brim with action and stuff like chapter nine (Of Licorice Kisses)! Whoo! XD**

* * *

_[13]__  
__.__Doom's Day Report__._

I watch with horrid fascination as Rhode breathes a sign of relief as Allen's arm – transformed once again into a weapon within a short flash of greenish light – comes crashing down around her. "Thank you," she mouths, and then it's curtains.

Her teeny body is lifted into the air, slash marks splitting her apart and pooling with chalky, brown-black fluids like under-mixed brownie batter. Rhode doesn't let out a sound, although the pain and contusion wracking her frame cause her face to contort messily. She chokes, and light pours from her mouth like liquid mercury, shimmering and glowing and poisonous. Rhode's lips bend into a beaming smile, her eyes grow soft and dull, and her corpse falls to the ground in a pile of shards so much like chipped pieces of multi-colored quartz. It's as though her entirety – clothes, flesh, and all else – crystallized in a sort of lightshow as soon as she was slain.

As Rhode's remains seep into the soiled ground and the chalky, brown-black blood turns from thick goop into runny milk and is absorbed by the dirt, Allen collapses to his knees. I rush forward to catch him, and call out to Linalee for assistance.

She doesn't pay any mind to the flecks of color glistening in the sunset, and I wonder distantly if Linalee can even see the Noah's scattered body, since to her, Noahs look like normal humans. They did to me, too, for a long time; but just now, nothing about that display could be considered 'human.'

Linalee helps Allen stand, and I take one last glance at what is left of Rhode prior to walking back around Krory's home to my truck. Allen is crying now, silently, and with only a few tears being shed. Linalee notices and attempts to comfort him, but he brushes the comfort off and claims that he needs to sleep. The sun is orange and ripe in the sky, since our meeting had taken place at around four o' clock, and it's presently about seven.

"Lavi," he slurs with exhaustion as we set him down in the backseat of my truck, "What are we going to do?"

"I'll tell you what we're _not_ going to do!" Linalee huffs, "We're _not_ going to go to the police. And we might as well forget about rescuing Miranda and Mr. Krory, seeing as how we don't know where they are and we're probably going to be confronted directly since you just killed one of the enemies! No, we're not going to do anything drastic. We're just going to go back to my house and wait it out. We need a place to sojourn." She shakes her head in miniscule motions. "I'll call Yuu later and tell him what happened – which I hope I can explain correctly – and then we're going to bunker down and make some kind of plan, since our first plan obviously is blown out of the water, now. It's not even an option." She sighs haggardly. "Wait here, you two. While we're here, I'm going to pop in on Allen's guardian and butter him up a bit to convince him to let Allen stay at my house. Luckily he's been covering for Allen all along with that whole house arrest issue. And keeping that investigator guy off our track. What is his name, again? Harry Luke? Howwie Luck?"

"Howard Link," I inform her.

"Right, that's it; Link. Anyway, I'm going to go talk to Cross. I'll be right back." And then there Linalee goes, off to use her cutesy charm to win the poor pinkish-red-haired man over. Like she has in the past.

As she stalks off, I turn around in my seat and lean over the boy I love. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Wrought with guilt and sore in my left arm, but other than that, I'm peachy-keen," he grumbles as he adjusts his seating. "I can feel it throbbing. My scar, I mean. The pentagon feels like it's being zapped with an electric pulse every other second."

"I wonder why?" I say offhandedly.

It's a rhetorical question, but Allen answers anyhow. "I dunno. Maybe it knows something… Maybe it thinks that a big battle is coming soon."

"I wouldn't be surprised if there is."

"Lavi?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think… if someone asks for it… it's okay to take their life away?"

I pause while I ponder that. "No," I say after some time. "No, I don't think it's okay, even if they aren't human. Murder is murder, but if someone asks for it, it's more like assisted suicide. Still, it's not okay. It's never okay. But sometimes, it's the best choice you can make with what you're given, and it's the closest to 'okay' that you can be."

He nods stiffly, and then winces as it sends pain shooting down his arm (I can tell by the way his fingers in his left arm twitch). "Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

"But know that I'll never think poorly of you, Allen," I tell him as I slip in between the two front seats and reach back to touch his smooth face. "I never have. Even when I saw you at your most ruthless, I didn't think any less of you. Killing Rhode just now… it didn't scar me for life or mar my image of you. I still see you the same, as Allen Walker, a being torn between right and wrong, black and white, good and evil. Because you are, you know; you're someone who will always be fighting, always think of yourself as deformed and inhuman, when in fact you're perfectly flawed to me. To me, you're wholly human, only you show it outwardly unlike the rest of us who hold it inside."

"…God, Lavi, did a poet just slip into your brain and talk for you?" Allen laughs, and it's good to hear his laugh, because it brings back some of my senses, and I think some of his, too. Breaks the numbness and shock of what happened with Rhode.

I laugh with him, but a bit more heartily. "Yeah, I think one did. And I also think that was the old-me talking."

"The Bookman/Exorcist-you?"

"Yeah, that version of me. I think he likes being sentimental and old-fashioned. What a crazy redhead, ne?"

Allen grins and hums in agreement. "Mhm. But I loved him that way." He closes his eyes. "I'm going to nap. I think I've had enough excitement for one day."

"I couldn't agree more, man," I sigh. And then I turn back around and start the car and Linalee races up to the side of the truck.

"Let's go home," she says.

o0-0o

It is a stressful period, while playing the waiting game. It is also a boring one. Not entirely boring, mind you; I do have Allen here with me, and there is high-definition television in front of me and a Wii (which I assume is Linalee's) and Xbox 360 (which I assume is Komui's) to go along with it if I so choose, but I feel bored in that I-don't-feel-like-doing-anything-that-strains-my-brain way. And television and video games actually require some thought, unlike what most people presume.

Currently, Allen's head is resting on the opposite side of the couch, his feet propped up in my lap. He looks completely different than he did earlier this evening; while he naps he appears vulnerable and childish and weak. In a sense,_ innocent._ Free from care and worry and hatred, not able to defend himself or others, let alone harm someone. And yet…

And yet Rhode is gone for good and was the one who committed the act.

Maneuvering myself carefully, I shimmy along his side against the couch and squeeze in between his arm and the cushions. I rest my head on the empty space by his hair, my nose tipping downward to skim his collar bone. I wrap an arm around him protectively and close my eyes. With the day I've had, not including the night beforehand, I deserve a little nap as well.

"Why, isn't that just adorable!" a chipper voice speaks from above me. I open one eye and lift my head to see who it is. Komui stares back at me, a delighted spark behind his glasses. A knowing smirk quirks his sealed lips.

"Bugger off," Allen mumbles from beneath me, and I glance at him in surprise, because I thought he was asleep. The funny thing is, there's a British accent in his voice that hadn't been there before.

"How rude," Komui pouts. He raises his hands in the air as if in surrender at gunpoint. "I wasn't making fun of you or anything. Personally, I have no problem with you two; free love and all that. I'm just a little disappointed because I thought my dear, sweet sister was going to pick one of you instead of cranky old Yuu Kanda."

I can't help but smile. "Hey, she had her chance… about a hundred 'n' fifty years or so ago."

He frowns, not catching my meaning, but shrugging it off all the same. "I came in to tell you both that we made some dinner; my famous white-bean and chicken chili. Care for a bowl? It's not very Chinese like our other means, but it's what I had the ingredients for in the house."

"…Too sleepy. Don't want any of yer bloody chili," Allen mumbles groggily, still in a none-too-faint British accent.

"That sounds wonderful," I chime in. Then, looking to Allen, I say, "Something must seriously be wrong if the great Allen Walker isn't rushing in the direction of free food. And if he's speaking in British tongues when he was technically born and raised in America in this lifetime."

"Hmm?" he yawns, not understanding. He rubs one eye and sits up. I follow him and sit behind him, my arms ever present at his waist.

"Allen… Wake. Up." I state as clearly as I can.

"'M awake," he replies, loosing some of the accent. The only explanation I can think of why it was there in the first place is because, while out of touch with full-consciousness, Allen reverts back to his old habits and ways, one of which being speaking with an accent since he used to be of purely Old-England decent. "What's Komui want, now?"

"…Just informing you about dinner being ready to consume," Komui chuckles as he starts to walk away. "Wash up and join us. While you were asleep, Yuu popped by. He's in the kitchen as we speak."

Allen groans, as if he were being forced onto a roller coaster. "Great. I wonder if the idiot thinks that I'm some crazy serial killer."

"Technically, two women being killed in different ways doesn't make you a serial killer –" I interject.

"Shut up, Lavi," he grumbles, and stretches his arms over his head. "Besides, I didn't kill my art teacher. You know that."

"Yeah, but I think Kanda is a bit more skeptical than I am," I sigh. I hug him, nuzzling into his neck. "I also think that things are so fucked up that I don't have much time to spend with you any more. And that bothers me. All I want to do is eat you up twenty-four-seven, but I can't! It's not fair."

He squirms out of my grip, blushing like crazy. "S-stop it, Lavi. Jeez, you're such a pervert."

"Am not," I sniff. "When I say, 'eat you up,' I swear I don't mean in the sexual sense. I mean that I want to kiss and hold you, that's all. I can't help it if I've been Allen-deprived."

"You're not 'Allen-deprived'; I'm right next to you, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean," I say with a roll of my emerald eyes. I sigh and let go of him. He stands and paces towards the bathroom to wash his hands before supper.

"But I agree with you," he tosses over his shoulder. "With all the chaos, we don't get enough time together. And I feel like I'm repeating the past because of that."

He disappears into the bathroom, and I lay back on the couch, realizing that his feelings are true; he _is_ repeating the past by not getting much time to be with me. And upon realizing this, my heart throws a fit and aches madly, because I start thinking, _What if this is all the time I'm ever going to have with him? What if we die within the next few days, and we aren't reborn for a third time? Then all this would be for nothing, and I would have never even gotten to make love to him before we're both gone forever –_

I cut off these thoughts, wishing to not depress myself. I stand up, crack my knuckles, and run a hand through my spiky, shaggy hair to calm my nerves. I can't think like that; it's panicky and illogical, and completely moronic. Last moments on Earth? As if. This isn't nuclear war, and it's hardly a gang war; it's just a few crazed super-humans against some reborn Exorcists. Nothing too big…

Right?

But… say, hypothetically, that we _do_ die. And somehow get reincarnated again, even if it's not somehow with the same names. Well, if that magically happened… I would wait for Allen. I would late for as long as it took to find him again, and next time around, there shouldn't be any more threats or supernatural additives, which means we should be able to live like a normal (homosexual) couple.

With a random burst of music in my head – 'Wait For You' by Elliott Yamin – I file into the bathroom after Allen exits it. I wash my hands with pomegranate soap from Bath and Body Works (which must be Linalee's, since this smell way too girly to be something Komui would use; or would he?) and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look tired, complete with bags under my eyes. I also look scared shitless, because everything surrounding me is getting to be more and more hopeless.

Yet I have to keep reminding myself: I am Lavi Deak. I was many aliases in the past, but the forty-ninth, Lavi, stuck with me 'till death, and above all else I was a Bookman. I might have dropped the title in order to be with Allen, but I was still observant. And I was an Exorcist, which made me a warrior.

And warriors don't lose hope. They quake in their boots with fear, perhaps, but they don't think that everything is hopeless, even when it possibly is. Warriors keep the thought in mind that they will be triumphant, that they will fight until either their own or their enemies' end, and no matter what, they will give every moment their utmost best, through wounds and pain and anguish and fatigue.

I splash cold water on my face to rid it of it's oily, tired, crusty appearance. As the blast of icy liquid runs over the grooves on my face, dripping into the sink below, one question comes to mind: _Is there even going to be a big battle?_

Good question. Rephrased, I could ask the others, 'Is Doom's Day approaching?'

I could ask, 'Are you prepared to look Death in the face?'

But I don't even know if Death is on the horizon. It could all be in my head; and most likely is. Except I'm forgetting how things were back then… or, maybe, I'm remembering all too well and am thinking that it applies to today.

Truth is, I'm not sure. I have no clue what's to come, because I kept thinking that things were looking up, and yet here I stand, in Linalee's bathroom with a dripping face and teeming thoughts and a growling stomach, while every inch of my body is screaming for me to run.

Run away from Tyki and Lulubell and my friends and Allen and the whole situation.

But I refuse to do such a thing. I'm no coward; I don't run. I won't. I could never abandon everyone and leave them to deal with what's mainly my own problem.

I'm not being a martyr. I'm not being noble. I'm not complaining, or being a whiny brat, or a child-gone-adult trying to blame himself or take responsibility for his own actions.

I'm not being anything except, perhaps, a fool.

o0-0o

We ended up spending the night together, all of us huddled in the family room on the floor or couch or chairs, sleeping in mentally exhausted heaps in front of an '80's movie marathon on one of the extended cable channels. Well, all of us… minus Kanda. He didn't really want to stay, and I didn't blame him; it wouldn't be like him to join in with a sleepover (of sorts) anyhow, but there's also the fact that he and Allen still don't get along. It's funny, because it was halfway through Weird Science that I conked out and dismissed Kanda's absence from my mind. I'm not sure about when everyone else fell asleep; it was too dark to tell.

But come morning, I'm blinking into morning sunlight and discovering Allen's body perched precariously atop mine. He snuggles into my arms and clenches the fabric of my shirt in his fist, mumbling something or another. I stroke his hair idly as I return to full consciousness and recap to myself the previous day's events, like I do most every morning.

Allen yawns and rolls off of me as he, too, beings to awaken. I sit up as he does so and take a quick gander at the scene in the room: blankets tossed aside, pillows falling off the couch, bodies missing, and the scent of breakfast food in the air. Apparently, we're the last ones up.

"I smell scrambled eggs with cheese and ham," Allen announces as soon as he has pushed himself up to stand.

"Why does it not surprise me that your nose can detect exactly what kind of food is being prepared?" I retort as I take Allen's offered hand and clamber to my feet.

He grins. "Because I'm just that way, and you've known it for a while now."

I nod and shrug. "Can't argue with that."

As we enter the kitchen, we find a small golden ball perched on a napkin, munching on a long slab of ham. Immediately Allen rushes over towards it. "Tim! I haven't seen you for a while now, buddy. I missed you! How are things going? – Did my uncle treat you all right? And what's going on with that Link character?"

Typical Allen.

Timcanpi responds with a short reel of choppy video clips, the first of which proving to his rightful owner that, yes, he has been treated well. The second clip bugged me, though; it was of Link, doing a drive-by of Allen's home, and then the third clip, in which he's prowling in the bushes below Allen's bedroom window.

"That's messed up," I catch Komui saying as I tear my eyes away from Tim's video projections. "That investigator will stop at nothing! Doesn't he have better things to do than stalk our poor Al?"

"I was thinking the same thing, brother," Linalee remarks with a sigh. She takes a sip of her morning mug of coffee, which I note is littered with a lot more cream than it should be. It makes me wonder if it has a ton of sugar in it, too.

Allen's face scrunches up. "I hope that I never have to face that guy. He wigs me out, and is annoying as hell."

I laugh; _definitely_ typical Allen. If there wasn't the impending doom of the Noah lingering over our heads, I would find this bout of normalcy rather comforting.

"Lavi," Linalee addresses me, and I hum in interest as I plunk down onto a chair at the table. She sips her coffee, and then says in a meek voice, "What are we going to do about Miranda and her boyfriend? You seem so cheery, and yet…"

"Cheery?" I throw back with a snort. I shake my head as I prop my feet up on one of he thick legs holding up the table. "No, not really. This is as close to hysterics as I'm going to get; inside, I'm torn up, Lina. I can't stand the thought of those two being locked up somewhere while we sit on our asses and wait for something to happen. It's not right, and I hate it. But what can we do, honestly? We have no idea where they are; Rhode kindly let out that detail before she pleaded for death. So here we are, stuck with no clue as to what to do. I mean, I can't even go home to my grandpa or return to my apartment outside of my college for fear of being tracked or ambushed by those damn Noah! It's all so fucked up, but I'm just trying to smile and keep moving on for your sakes." I take a deep breath, having not planned on talking so much. My little outburst earns an ashamed glance downward from Linalee. I soften my features and turn my chair and lean forward to touch her knee. "Hey, look. It's not so bad, Lina. We can get through this, like we always do. We'll find a way."

"I hate it when people say that," she sniffs. She wipes her nose on the sleeve of the robe draped over her nightgown. "It's just filler words, empty promises, because no one can predict the future. How can you find a way if you don't know where you're going?"

I notice with an icy trickle down my spine how silent it has gotten in the kitchen since I started talking. I turn to look at Allen, who has a plate of untouched food in front of him; and then I turn to Komui, who seems to be staring at me with conviction, as if deciding if he should attack me for snapping at his baby sister or confirm what I've said about things not being all that bad.

Komui adjusts his glasses, and out of the corner of my eye, Allen swipes back his hand to clear his face of his snowy hair. Then, things click back into place, with Allen eating and Komui beginning to wash the dishes he dirtied when he cooked in them. Before me, Linalee straightens up and wipes her eyes with her opposite robe sleeve and forces a smile to her pink lips. "You know, forget what I said.… You've got a point. We _can_ get through this, and _will _figure out all the details along the way. It's how we do things. Right?"

"Right," I reply slowly, and move to scoot my chair in to face the table. I squirt a heaping of ketchup in the corner of my plate and pick up my fork to dip my first bite of cheesy, ham-sprinkled eggs into the red glop. It fills my mouth, but I don't taste much. It's all texture and salt, and not much more. I zone out while I finish my meal, but steal a few glances at Allen, whom seems preoccupied with Timcanpi.

After the dishes are stacked in the dishwasher, the four of us migrate to miscellaneous rooms. Linalee heads for the shower, Komui to the computer room, and Allen and I down the stairs towards a billiard table the Lees own.

But Allen and I don't even get the chance to finish setting up the billiard balls in the triangle and chalk our cue sticks before the doorbell interrupts us.

"I'll get it!" Allen calls upstairs, and I follow him into the foyer as he answers the door. It swings open, but the stoop is vacant of all signs of life. Allen grunts as he bends to retrieve something. When he shuts the door and paces over towards me, the frown on his face is enough to tell me that it is _not _good news in his hands.

He hands me an envelope, and I read the inscription aloud in a shocked murmur. "To the _enemy_…"

"Who was at the door?" Komui inquires as he steps out to meet us. His eyes are drawn to the note in my hands, which in seconds I tore out of the envelope and began to read. Komui peers over my shoulder. "What? What is it, Lavi?"

I feel rage – raw and fiery and tangible like the presence of scorched rocks rubbing at my insides – fill my frame from the stomach upwards. My hands shake, and I'm tempted to rip the paper to shreds or crumble it and slam it onto the hardwood floor or even scream in frustration. In place of these things, I give the letter to Komui to read, my hands vibrating enough so that the older man can see my pent-up reactions. His frown deepens, and Allen's worry grows, but I can't say anything to them. Let them read the note for themselves.

"It's time to act, boys," I utter so lowly it might be considered a growl, but the smirk that makes its way to my mouth alters the outcome. "Are you ready?"

Komui and Allen, having read the note together, glance up at the same time. Allen's teeth are clenched. "I'm ready." It's stated so firmly it makes me want to hug him.

Komui swallows. "I'll call Yuu," he says in a voice too high to be his own.

While Allen rushes to the bathroom door to tell Linalee, I crack my knuckles and take the letter from Komui. He heads for the phone in the kitchen, and without clear reason, I scan the note once more. The handwriting and signature are sickeningly familiar.

_Exorcist reincarnates,_

_As you very well know, we have your friends. And from what I've been told, you have taken the life of ours._

_So, I think it's about time we've done something about this._

_It's time for the final battle. All or nothing, like poker. Remember when we played on the train in your past life, Walker and Deak? Those were some good times, huh? Before we knew that we were destined to annihilate one another._

_Well, that destiny has come. Let's end this, _today._ Report to the abandoned windmill next to the old church at six o' clock sharp. If you're a minute late, one of your friends shall die like my dear niece did. _

_Understood?_

_Good._

_Now then, you better get packing; it's a long trip that far out into the county. It will take you a good two hours to drive that distance with traffic. _

_Oh, but you _do _know where the old windmill and church is, don't you? It's practically famous. There are local ghost tales about the place, which makes it perfect for a final stand. It's also where we're keeping your friends._

_So, if your little group wants a shot at having your lives back, you better Google the location and grab a few weapons, because we won't wait a second longer._

_May the best man (or woman) win, eh?_

_~Tyki Mikk~_

_P.S. In case you were wondering, I had a little messenger of mine deliver this to you. Did you really think Lulu and I would be as stupid as to visit you ourselves? That's what we had Rhode for. But now that she's gone… well, we had to resort to other means. It's funny what some humans will do for money; they'll deliver a note addressed 'to the enemy' with no questions asked._

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[14]__  
__.Into The __Finale Rhythm__._


	14. Into the Finale Rhythm

**A/N: Huzzah, 'tis ready for viewing! - But I'm not so sure this does my original plans justice. Ah, well; what's done is done. There is still more to come - perhaps two or three more chapters? - so hopefully I can work in some of the things I have been leaving out, and wrap up what I can.**

**Review, pretty please with sugarcubes and apples on top? - ****Wait, who am I talking to, horses? Lemme rephrase that: Review, pretty please with hot smexy yaoi on top? ;D**

* * *

_[14]__  
__.Into The __Finale Rhythm__._

"We can't waste time," Allen says grimly, and every last one of us nods in horrified agreement. "We need to call Kanda, and start packing. We have a dangerous journey ahead of us, and it's on a rather unstable path."

He sounds confident and yet fearful, wise and yet naïve, tough and yet crumbling. I move to Allen's side and hold him, rubbing his shoulder with one hand and cradling his waist with the other. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and tell him, "Whatever happens, promise me that you'll stay close. The last time we went into battle we were separated, and…"

"And you don't want to go through death for a second time," Allen whispers hoarsely. "I promise you won't, Lavi. I'm going to watch your back, and I know that you'll watch mine in return. We're going to fight, but we're not going to do it alone."

"Good," I reply as I lift my head to stare into his eyes. The pupil of his left eye is pulsating eagerly, and flashing red and black every so often. I trace the lightning bolt-like scar running down his cheek. "Because I wasn't planning on anything else."

He nods once, and then we break apart and scramble like everyone else in the house to gather supplies and weapons. I take my hammer from my backpack, Allen flexes his arm and practices the transformation several times over (and winces each time), Linalee straps on her thickest, most pointed pair of heels, and Kanda arrives with a slimmer version of kendo padding paired with a sword in his hands. It isn't Mugen, merely an ordinary katana, but it will do.

Even Komui readies himself by taking out a pair of nunchucks and swinging them around surprisingly masterfully. We all stare at him. I question him with a confused frown on my face, asking how the hell he knows how to use nunchucks.

Komui flashes a grin. "What, did you think that I'm completely useless and learned nothing from my Asian heritage?"

I laugh unsurely, mostly due to the atmosphere. "Nah, man, I never doubted you, I just didn't know that you could use_ those_ as a weapon, of all things."

"They can be quite handy," Komui sing-songs as he lashes out with another whipping strike of the metal-plated wooden nunchucks. He stops them cold and holds a specific stance, one that reminds me of all of those kung-fu movies, the ones with Bruce Li and Jackie Chan playing the leading star roles. "But I'm a little out of practice. I haven't messed with these since my college days."

I wave that aside. "Which were, what, under ten years ago? You'll be fine, Komui. What you can do now is already pretty impressive."

"Thanks," he smiles, and there's a keen light in lenses of his glasses that remind me of the good ol' days.

"I think this might actually work out," I relay to Allen a few minutes later.

But he doesn't seem to agree. He shakes his head slowly, silver hair bouncing and swaying. "I'm not so sure, Lavi," he murmurs. "Tyki is pretty powerful, and Lulubell can be _anybody._ What if she impersonates one of our friends to try and trick us?"

"That is possible," I sigh in defeat. "But we have to buck up, Allen. If we don't have a fraction of confidence or hope in us, then we will definitely fail. But if we pull together and keep looking on the bright side…"

"What bright side?" he snaps back. "There's not much of a bright side left. I know that you were always the one between us who would smile – even if it was forced – and remind me to, 'keep your head in the game and out of despair and shame,' but I'm not sure if I can –"

"You _can_, alright? We all can. Don't sell yourself short, Allen. You have always had such greatness in you, despite the dark things that have held you back in the past," I tell him firmly, my hands clamping down on his shoulders with sudden intensity. I shake him minutely. "Don't give up on my now, Allen Walker. Not before the fight's even begun! That's not your style, and I'll be damned if it becomes your style now."

He takes a sharp breath. "You're right. Damn it all, Lavi, you're right. I'm being stupid; I'm letting my nerves and fears get the best of me. This isn't the eighteen hundreds, this is the two-thousands, and things are different. We're not trapped or limited any more."

"That's right," I grin, and slap him on the back. "So c'mon, lover, and let's get cracking."

"Mhm," he agrees, and we follow the others in piling objects into the backs of our cars. Komui says that he will lead our group because he knows exactly where the church and windmill are located. We don't argue with him.

"Alright, all aboard who's going aboard!" Komui hollers to us as he stands outside of the driver's seat of his car, his hand balancing him as he hands off of the car door, left ajar. "Yuu, come ride with us. Allen, you ride with Lavi. And Red, please try to keep up."

"Why does every older guy feel the need to call me 'Red'?" I mutter under my breath as I slam my truck's door shut and snap my seatbelt into place. "Cross did it, random strangers too, and now Komui…"

Allen climbs into the passenger seat and slams his own door closed. He buckles himself and with a rigid spine and clenched fists, he turns to me. "I hate this."

"No one said that you had to like it," I shrug.

"I need music to distract my thoughts," he states, and leans over to turn on the radio. Loud metal music blasts out of nowhere, causing the two of us to wince. I pull out of Linalee's driveway and tag Komui's car while Allen surfs for a different channel to listen to. He comes to an alternative rock station and stays there.

And then we're on the road, riding to what could be a great triumph or the biggest letdown of our lives.

I can only hope that the pain and suffering is kept to a minimum.

o0-0o

The drive is long – tense and anything but boring, but especially time consuming – and takes precisely two hours and seventeen minutes, which is roughly what Tyki estimated in his letter to us.

It bothers me the entire time we're riding towards our last stand who it was that delivered the note and practically sold us out. I can't come with any answers, though, and soon it won't even matter.

I noticed while we were driving that the cities and suburbs became more and more scarce, and the cows and farms became greater in number, and the land went from flat and cement-based to hilly and spotted with forests. I've never been this far southwest of this state before, and had no idea that it could look like this.

It's all so wonderful and frightening and amazing.

Our two vehicles pull into a gas station in the last town prior to our destination, which is about half an hour's drive away, into the country, and broken pieces of an abandoned and ruined village. The clock is just turning four. We have two hours left, and yet we are already here.

"We should rest and train to gather our strength after sitting still for so long," Kanda points out in a low grumble as soon as our gar tanks are full and so are our stomachs with cheap gas station food.

Allen, for once, is on the same page as Kanda. "Kanda's got the right idea. We should all nap for fifteen to twenty minutes, and then warm up with our weapons someplace that isn't easily spotted by the public."

"I like that plan," I add. "I could use a little time to rest my eyes. I barely blinked the whole time I was driving, I was so tense!" I look to my pal Lina, and take into account the fall of her shoulders and lack of warrior spirit in her posture. "Linalee? How are you holding up?"

Linalee has been awfully quiet, and part of me thinks it could be because she witnessed Rhode being killed. Well, perhaps not entirely; she did look away unlike what I did. But she was still present when it occurred. And despite her wearing some (literally) kick-ass boots and carrying a small switchblade in a garter around her thigh, I think she's not prepared for this. She doesn't want to fight people. This version of Linalee is… a lot more frail than the one I knew. This Linalee doesn't have as much to fight for or as much to lose, and she doesn't have any Innocence, nor any real training. This version of Linalee is much more outgoing and chipper, and cries easier.

And yet, in this moment, she looks completely numb.

Komui catches the concern in my tone as I say her name and ask her what's wrong, and he steps over to us to place a hand on her thin shoulder. "Lina, baby? Are you okay?" he asks her.

She glances up at her older brother. Tears spring to her eyes, and she curls into his chest. "Komui," she sobs, "I don't know if I'm capable of hurting someone. I've only seen gang fights and one-on-one battles in movies, and those look so_ scary,_ and people _bleed_ and people_ die,_ and I don't want that to happen to any of my friends, or my boyfriend, or you."

She hiccups, and Komui pats her on the back a couple times and tightens his grip in a soothing, protective manner. "Shh. It's going to be okay, Linalee. If you want, just us guys will take care of things. You can stay in this town and –"

"No," she says immediately, cutting him off. She lifts her head, and her expression is that of sheer rage and pain. "I would never forgive myself if I let myself hide while all of you risked your lives. I need to be there, Komui. I just wish… that in was a better fighter, that's all."

"In that case," Kanda responds from afar, "We have an hour and a half before we have to leave. In that time, I can teach you come basic combat that might save your life, or another's."

Her head whips around to her boyfriend, who is leaning against the side of my truck's bed, and a grateful smile lifts her lips. She paces over to him and hugs his slim waist. "Thanks, Yuu," she replies softly.

"Now that that's settled," I interject, "We should find a place to relax and practice."

"I know of a nice meadow nearby," Komui informs us. "I used to go duck hunting with my uncle there. It's completely hidden by a forest of trees, and the sod is soft. We can rest up and then use the clearing as a training ground."

"Sweet!" I grin. I grab Allen's hand and head to my car. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get a move on!"

o0-0o

Komui bounces with renewed strength and energy after a short power-nap, much like the rest of us. Time is slowly inching closer to the midnight hour; the figurative one, at least. Not dissimilar the five-minutes-until-midnight marker on the Doom's Day clock in Watchmen, a favorite comic book of mine.

I swing my hammer back and forth, its heavy head and spiked opposing end smashing chips and stripping trees of their bark. I miss the ability to alter the size and weight of my hammer, but the one is own now is large it can nearly be considered a mallet. In addition to that, it is composed of pure steel and when thrust against Kanda's blade and Allen's arm during our sparring, sparks fly.

I study with amused intrigue as Linalee spars with her brother, sending kicks at his nunchucks with steel-toed high-heel boots. And then, with a tuck and roll in the grass, she uncovers her switchblade, flicks it out of it's casing, and jabs thrice towards Komui's midsection (although she purposely misses her target so not to harm him). She grins as he congratulates her for her effort, but the grin is off; it looks more like a cover-up smile, as if she's trying not to break.

"Linalee, why don't you rest for a little while and let us take on your brother?" I hear Allen suggest.

Her eyes flickers over to Kanda, as if asking him to encourage her to keep fighting. He surprises him by saying, "Listen to the bean sprout, Linalee."

She sighs. "Yeah, okay," Linalee murmurs in defeat. "I'll be sitting under the old oak over there."

The four of us nod to one another, expressing thoughts and agreement without words, and then dive into another mock-battle. All the while, we're glancing at the watches on our wrists or the clocks on our cell phones in at attempt to calculate when to stop and pack up to leave.

Because we can't afford to be a second late for our very, very important date. The lives of two of our closest friends – one of them being a college professor of mine – are at stake.

o0-0o

With a panicked yell, Linalee alerts us of the time: thirty five minutes until six.

We've never moved faster in our lives.

We bolt to our cars, dodging trees the whole way, and as we jump inside our vehicles, we throw our weapons beside us. The screeching of tires meets our ears as we pull off of a dirt road and enter the main street once more.

I can't seem to obey the speed limit while I race onward, my eyes scanning the left and right fields in search of a broken-down windmill or a church reduced to essentially rubble. Next to me, Allen nibbles at his cuticles and tears at his nails with his teeth, although he only does this to his right hand. His newly deformed left hand hangs limp between the seats, and yet the fingers of it twitch with adrenaline.

I drum my nails on the wheel, the dull _thrump, thrump_ on the hardened leather echoing in my ears. I ache to hear the radio, but know that Allen is in no mood to hear music, so I don't bother to reach for the dial.

I begin listing the landmarks in my head as I race behind Komui's car.

A trashed silo with no barn. A deer crossing sign. A small white cross on the side of the road with roses under it, signifying where someone died in a car crash. A slab of road kill, either a raccoon or a opossum, although I can't be sure. A metal bend that follows the curve of the road and saves cars from falling into the bog behind it.

And then, rearing up from curve as we head downhill, the ugly muddled brown of a windmill with missing boards all over it. And, nestled in mulberry bushes in the foreground of pine trees, a grey-bricked church with three shattered painted glass windows.

We have arrived.

Allen sucks in dry air, and in my peripheral vision, I note the way his eyes temporarily close and the way his body shakes. But then he grows still.

"Lavi," he murmurs as Komui and I pull into the gravel that leads to the church.

"Yes?"

"I sense them. The Noahs are here, waiting for us."

"But we're ten minutes early!"

"Doesn't matter," he growls. "They're _here._"

I swallow hard. "Alright," I say, "Then it's time to end this, like Tyki wrote."

He nods firmly and leaps out of his seat as soon as his buckle is off. He throws open the door, and I park the car prior to joining him. Allen grips my hand, and I can feel the heat radiating off of the cross in the back of his left hand. We walk over to our friends, and as a group of five, we march in the direction of the large front doors of the church, complete with rusted hinges and a green-tainted copper knocker.

Allen and I reach out a hand – my left and his right, our other hands continuing their hold on the other's – and push open the doors.

Eerie candlelight meets our eyes. It reflects off of dusty mirrors and catching in the fading sunlight caught in cobwebs. Pews are scattered and tipped over across the floor, which appears to be dirt, but on further inspection I notice that it is actually dirtied and cracked tile. As some of the light from the colorful sunset streams in through the broken windows or filters in through the colored glass, an iridescent effect decorates the desolation of the abandoned building.

"Impressive," a voice echoes throughout the room, startling the bats in the rafters. They flap from one spot to another, and a few leave via the glassless windows frames. "You are right on the button. It's six o' clock, now."

"Show yourself, Tyki Mikk!" Allen barks furiously.

"In due time," Tyki replies seemingly calmly. But I can hear the undertone of insanity in his voice. "For now, I think I will share some information with you. First of all, this is hardly a fair fight; there are five of you and only two of us. But we do have super-human abilities, so we'll permit you to use three people. The other two must sit this battle out, unfortunately. In fact," he drawls with false cheerfulness, "Why don't the two who sit out take our hostages home? That's all well and good, isn't it? Because I'm sure you want those two alive."

Suddenly, we all take a step forward as Krory and Miranda drop from the ceiling and hang in the center of the church from a rope tied around their torsos. They are unconscious, but not death or too terribly harmed, although there is blood dripping languidly from Krory's fingertips on his right hand.

Miranda groans, and he head lolls to her left shoulder as her eyes peek open. The gags from the photo is gone, which frees her to speak. "Li… na… lee?" she slurs drowsily.

Linalee bursts into tears and runs forward, clashing with the back-to-back figures of our friends. "Oh, Miranda, I'm so sorry; so very, very sorry; I would have known better, should have –"

"It's… alright, dear," Miranda coughs. She must be thirsty; who knows how many hours she has gone without water. "Could you… get us down?"

Linalee nods deftly as tears cloud her vision and stream down her face. I step away from Allen to help her, but Kanda beats me to it. He withdraws his sword and saws away at the rope until it comes loose and Miranda is caught the last two feet from the ground by Linalee, and Krory by Kanda.

The half-carry, half-drag the two limp bodies towards us, and in a moment of understanding and impossible to argue with decision-making, Komui takes Krory – the poor, vampire-looking young man – and tells Kanda, Allen and me: "Linalee and I will take my car and drive back home with these two. You three will have to stay and fight the Noah. I'll leave my nunchucks and Linalee's switchblade for you. Good luck."

Allen doesn't like this plan whatsoever, and he starts to protest, but Linalee hushes him with a gentle kiss on his right cheek. "It's alright, Allen. Brother and I aren't the best fighters, anyhow. You won't miss us. Besides, we have Miranda and Mr. Krory safe and sound now." She starts crying again, and this time I'm sure it's because she can't stand the thought of leaving the three of us in such a helpless situation. "Bye, Allen. Bye, Lavi." Linalee places a lingering kiss on Kanda's lips, and for a blinking second, I see sorrow and comprehension fill his otherwise blank face. "Goodbye, Yuu. Don't get yourself too banged up, okay?" she tries to joke.

In a gesture of tenderness, I watch as Kanda replies to this with a stoke of her hair and the words, "I love you," murmured in his deep voice in an octave so low I have to read his lips in order to know what he's saying.

Linalee's gaze falls away and she cries harder, only without any sound. She gulps once, twice, and then takes a step backward. "I love you, too. So, seriously… _be careful._ I would never forgive you if you let yourself get hurt, understand?" she returns fiercely, and I can almost feel my own eyes prick with tears. It's similar to something Allen told me long ago…

_"I love you, you stupid rabbit! So whatever you do, don't let those Akuma kick your ass when you're in China without me!" he roared in my face, his eyes watering up._

_I smiled sadly. "What do you take me for, Allen? Someone who can't take care of themselves? I'll be fine. You just watch yourself, alright? I don't trust some of the Finders and Exorcists that are traveling with you."_

_He wiped at his eyes, even though none of the tears had fallen. "Yeah, well, you shouldn't worry about me. I'm the goddamned 'Destroyer of Time'. I'll live."_

_"And yet you nearly died at least three times now," I joked, but there was a certain grim tone to my words that stuck with him. I shook my head and in one movement, grabbed the back of Allen's shorter head and brought his forehead to my lips. Kissing between his bangs, I muttered onto his lightly sweating skin, "Goodbye for now, love. Do your best."_

_"I always do," he had said, and then he hugged me tightly before turning and running to catch his train._

_I waved to his retreating back, and felt like I was losing him all over again._

I can empathize all too well with Linalee and Kanda in this moment, and it unnerves me. And while the two Lee siblings leave on their not-so-merry way, the three of us face forward to find Tyki leaning against the pastor's podium beneath a crooked crucifixion of Christ.

The Noah gestures up with a thumb at the stature of Jesus. "Sad story, isn't it?" he remarks with a hint of craze in his tone. "A virgin woman had to give birth to a holy child in a stable, and then the boy grew up with poor parents and did wonders in His lifetime for all sorts of grateful and ungrateful men and women, and then He was killed by ruthless Roman invaders who didn't believe Him when He said that He was God's son. Killed, too, in the most gruesome of ways: crucifixion. Did you know that he had to carry his own cross? Or that he was whipped repeatedly? Or what he was made fun of by wearing a crown of thorns?"

I watch as Allen brings the thin cross necklace to his lips, the same one I've seen around his neck since I met him. He doesn't kiss it, but he does say this to Tyki as he holds it in front of his mouth: "Yes, I know all about that. I've read the Bible, Tyki. And I've seen Mel Gibson's movie. But what's your point, huh? Why do you care? You're no preacher; you're the opposite."

"A sinner?" Tyki replies with a dastardly smirk. "Yes, I suppose I am. The Earl was my master and practically a father to me, and he is no holy man. He is a god, but not God Himself; he is a demon, and to some, the devil himself. So, technically speaking, that makes me hell spawn. An evil minion, a _demon._ But I don't feel that way, Allen Walker," he says breathily, as if being sincere. "I don't feel as though I am an evil incarnate. I may be a little off my rocker, and I may be vengeful, but I am not a demon. I possess unearthly powers, it's true, but I do not consume souls or bear bat wings or have a forked tongue and a spiked tail. I was but a man, and now I am beyond a man, but I am no ungodly creature or fallen angel. I am simply me. I am Tyki Mikk, and I can pass through solid objects with my bare hands."

These are all things we already know, but when a villain monologues, it gives us 'heroes' time to regroup and inch closer, readying an attack.

Tyki continues, never losing ground in his tale. "I brought up the Father's Son to show you that I do believe in God and devils, and that I do know where I will end up if you succeed in killing me. Like Rhode and the other Noahs murdered before me, I will go to hell. There is no salvation for someone such as me. I know this. Still, I don't want to lie back and let it happen. I am not like Rhode; I do not dream of death. Nor do I want to keep living however. It's complicated, really," he sighs, and begins to walk around the back of the podium to a tall candleholder with three plump ivory candles lit atop it. He glides his hand slowly through the flames. "What I want… is to go out with a bang, and hopefully bring you all down with me. I wonder… will you three go to hell as well?" Tyki shoots a wicked smile to Allen and me. "After all, God doesn't like homosexuals. It even reads in the Bible, 'men shall not lie with men, nor women lie with women.'"

"Like any other sin," I reply lowly, "Homosexuality can be forgiven. Besides," I add a tad lamely, "I, er, haven't had sex with Allen."

"In this life," Tyki corrects sinisterly. "But you have in the past."

"Shut up!" Allen bellows, and in seconds his arm bursts with greenish light and is enlarged and white, claws sprouting forth to grab Tyki. He simply passes through Allen's entire body, making the silver-haired boy turn as white as a sheet.

"Tsk, tsk," Tyki chides, and wags a finger to and fro. "You know better than to charge blindly, Allen."

Allen snaps out of his sick stupor and clenches his teeth. He whips around and glares at Tyki. "I hate you!" he barks. "I hate you _so_ fucking much!"

Cruel, hysteric laughter leaks from Tyki's mouth. "I'm glad!" he cheers, and claps his hands together. "You should hate me! The more you do, the more fun this will be~!"

With a frustrated howl bursting from Allen's throat, he slashes his way around Tyki, but e man keeps dodging, and as I'm about to leap in to assist him like I promised, Lulubell flies down from the rafters and lands in front of me. I stop dead in my tracks, halfway to Allen. She looks between Kanda and me. "Hello, doves," she coos, "Are you looking for trouble?"

I grind my teeth and feel my stomach lurch as a sandy, gritty taste assaults my tongue. "Get out of my way, Lulubell," I threaten darkly.

"Why?" she pouts. "Is it because you want to help your bedmate? Well, too bad. I'm going to play with you instead."

Insulted by her term for Allen, I swing my hammer and bolt forward. She smiles and in a flash, she looks exactly like my mother, and I stumble. I know that it's Lulubell, I do, but… the Noah has copied my mother's features down to a tee, and it's as if I'm staring directly at the framed photo in my bedroom, minus the pregnant belly that's supposed to contain me within it.

"Lavi, sweetie," she purrs in a voice that sounds like the VHS tapes I have at home featuring my mom in them, "What are you doing? You wouldn't come after your mommy, would you?"

I bite my lip, and there is a stinging sensation in the back of my eyes that will bring tears if I can't contain myself properly. "You're not my mother," I hiss, and I swallow down the bile rising in my throat as I squeeze my eyes shut and charge forward to strike.

When I open my eyes upon feeling impact, Lulubell is wide-eyed behind a cement pillar off to the side of the pews. She grows small, and turns into a younger version of myself. "It's not nice to hit people," she cries, and her eyes are so blaringly green like my own that it makes me sick all over again.

Kanda spears behind her. "Don't get distracted, Lavi," he tells me, and she screams the scream I had as a child and ducks between his legs in an attempt to escape his sword as he brings it down above where her head used to be.

I shake myself loose with closed eyes and a rub at my temples. I get my feet moving, and prepare myself not to fall for anything again. _This is not like the Ark with Rhode's illusions; this is _totally _different,_ I remind myself.

But as I return to battle, I find myself gazing upon two Kandas chasing one another, one with a sword and the other with a torch made out of a plank of wood set on fire by a cluster of fallen candles. Flames roar and lick along the pews, setting fire to whatever is touching. Moldy Bibles go up in flames.

"You are pathetic!" the torch-armed Kanda tells the other one. "You will never live up to your father! You will never make u for your sins! You are a spineless, cold-hearted young man that will never amount to anything. You don't deserve a lovely girl like Linalee. You will burn in hell with the rest of us!"

"I will kill you," the sword-armed Kanda retorts venomously.

"Kill Yuu? But I _am_ Yuu! I'm Yuu Kanda! And who are you?" Lulubell giggles, and reverts back to herself. She spins around in circles. "You're nobody. I could easily rid the world of you and take your place. I could go home to Linalee, give her a big, fat kiss on the cheek, and then stick a knife in her throat. Blood _everywhere!_" And she launches herself off of an overturned pew to jab the flaming torch into Kanda's left rack of ribs.

Kanda screams, truly _screams,_ and it's all I can do to cover my ears to prevent them from bleeding due to the high-pitched wail. Lulubell surrenders to maniacal laughter, but it isn't a wise thing to choose to do, because while she's sidetracked by her own shrieking giggles, Kanda gets up from his knees and rams her into the wall, pinning her in the arm with his sword. Her blood, much like Rhode's, runs brown-black down the blade. She sputters but does not let out a single painful sound. Instead, she grins masochistically, and walks forward until her arm is severed at the elbow. She rotates her body and clubs a shocked Kanda in the side of the head with her halved arm. Her blood dribbles down his face and along his neck as he stumbles backward. I catch him and haul him to his feet.

"Is that all you got?" Lulubell sneers, and as she says this, a new forearm grows from her elbow with bloody fingers knotting into a fist.

"Y-you can regenerate?!" I stutter in accusation.

She laughs again. "Of 'course I can! I'm the lone Noah who is able to. It's because, in order to look like someone else, I have to be able to mimic their bodies in every single way, including missing limbs or extra toes. My bones rearranged themselves, as do my muscles and vocal cords; everything changes, even my body fat. The only thing that stays constant is my brain and blood." She shrugs. "But you don't need to know this, really. We should just keep fighting!"

And so begins another round.

I quickly steal a glance at Allen. My heart twists and my stomach drops as I spot dark red blood trickling down from Allen's head, matting his hair on one side. There is also a limp in his step that shouldn't be there. "Allen!" I call out to him, and rush over towards him.

"Ah-ah-ah," Lulubell scolds happily, "No rescuing your damsel in distress until you're done playing with me," she says.

I set my hammer between my legs and crack my fingers and neck. Re-gripping the handle, I cock my arms behind my head and ready myself to take aim and lop off another one of her limbs. Regeneration or not, if a head does flying or too much blood is lost, a creature will not survive the attack. It's basic monster-logic.

I signal Kanda, and he nods once. We run alongside one another and swing downwards with our weapons at the same time. Lulubell make a choking noise, and coughs up her thick, brownie-batter-looking blood as we land a blow to her gut, my hammer knocking her back into the wall and Kanda's sword creating a gash in her hip.

She shifts her appearance into that of Linalee. The two of us stop dead in our tracks. "It's cruel, you know," the fake Linalee sputters, "It's cruel, what you did to us; what you're still doing. We're just people," she whispers sweetly, her voice mirroring that of our Lina. "Why do you want to kill us off? In the past, and now…. Tyki was just joking about all of that revenge stuff; he's beyond that, truly," she keeps saying as she limps around a pillar towards Allen and Tyki, battling it out. "And I was never into the revenge stuff much; you _have_ to believe that."

Kanda clenches his jaw shut, and in a strange moment, I can imagine a cartoon version of him with cracking teeth from the pressure of the action. I wipe my mind of the image, nearly bursting out in hysteric laughter from the wackiness and stress of it all.

Lulubell sinks to the floor and chuckles bitterly. "I can't even believe that I got sucked into this mess."

And just like that, I figure out what's going on here: Tyki has been the brains of the operations all along, the main man with a plan for all these years, and during that time poor Lulubell and Rhode were dragged along and forced to do as he said for fear of the unknown and unfamiliar.

For a fleeting second, I pity Lulubell.

But only for a second.

In the next second, I'm telling Kanda to deal with the wounded Lulubell while I help Allen handle the psychotic Tyki Mikk. He complies with a single nod, and readies his sword. I scoop my hammer off the ground. It's time to show Allen that I'm capable of protecting him, and it's also time to show Tyki that he shouldn't underestimate a guy with heavy garage tools on hand.

I fall in step beside Allen and block a few of Tyki's skillful blows with my hammer while Allen does the same with his arm. "I wish this thing could still turn into a sword," Allen grounds out around the force of impact.

"Actually, it's better that you have both of your arms fully functional for this type of battle," I hiss as I dodge the ghostly fingers of Tyki's left hand, which is twitching eagerly, hoping to capture one of my organs in its grasp. "Besides," I add as I tackle Allen to the ground to stop him from getting socked in the gut with Tyki's knee, "You would be completely off-balance with one arm missing. You don't have the same training that you used to."

I roll off of him and catch him grumbling something about having perfect balance, thankyouverymuch.

I haul Allen into standing position with a yank of his arm. He grunts in protest, and seems to waver a bit on his feet, but all in all, he's alright;_ for now._ It is a small comfort to me, but a comfort nonetheless.

My lover wipes some blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and proceeds to arch his arm and charge it with his own strength, his own unique energy. I take aim at Tyki's head and hurl my hammer into the air, watching it spin in a narrow arc towards the enemy.

Allen's hand slashes Tyki's abdomen half a second after my hammer connects with Tyki's shoulder. My hit made the man fall to his knees, and Allen's hit sends him flying backwards into a pew, succeeding in breaking it in two.

Outraged and bleeding, Tyki licks his lips and cackles as he launches himself past Allen and collides with me. I let out a curt cry, something akin to a mixture of a scream and a grunt, and then fall to the dirty floor. The fall is hard on me, and I can already feel bruises forming along my tailbone and tearing skin along my spine as I skid across some wooden floorboards I hadn't initially noticed.

"I got you now, Deak," Tyki Mikk hisses in my face. I can hear Allen running towards us, a battle cry bubbling from his throat and the scrape of razor fingers against brick.

Before I can react, Tyki laughs maniacally once more as he reaches forward, directly at my face. I squeeze my eyes shut and wrestle blindly with him, but it is futile; Tyki passes through my arms and pins my legs, and Allen screams my name – "LAVI!!" – as I feel a prick in my right eye and blood begin to ooze like crimson tears from my socket.

I panic, and let out a feral shriek as my eyes pop open and I find myself looking out of only one eye, and find the other emerald eye leaking fluids from Tyki's hand as he says, "Ah, that's better; now you look more like how I knew you, and it makes it easier to forget the circumstances and kill you."

Suddenly, everything grows fuzzy and my head begins to go blank, and a small voice in the back of my head tells me to stay conscious, because my body is going into shock. I breathe harshly through my lips and concentrate on the rhythm of my heartbeat, rapid and oddly soothing in my ears. It's the rhythm of a finale, dramatic and fast-paced like an action movie during the end battle.

I close my eyes and realize three things: I'm weeping, Tyki is no longer pinning me, and I can hear Allen's voice, although I have no idea as to what he is saying.

I try not to drift off into sleep – my body is pleading for slumber – but keeping the pain in mind is all I can do not to succumb to fainting on the spot.

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**Next chapter (but don't fear the title; it isn't the last one; like I said, there should be two or three more to come):**

_[15]__  
__.Endgame._


	15. Endgame

**A/N: Uhg. For some reason, I've gotten re-obessed with playing Kingdom Hearts II in my spare time. I wish I could afford Chain of Memories, since I've already watched all the cutscenes on KH-vids(dot)net, but alas, I am one broke muthafooker. Ah, well; I'll just try to stray away from it so not to get too sidetracked from my writing. ;D**

**If I get fifteen reviews on this chapter, the fifteenth person to do so will get a oneshot of their choice! - But in order to get that many, you have to review, people, and just hope that you're lucky. Heehee~ **

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_[15]__  
__.Endgame._

"Lavi, Lavi! Come on, you stupid rabbit… Oh God, please, come _on_! You can't black out again; if you do, I might lose you! Understand? I will _lose you._ I mean… D-didn't you say that you would always be here for me? So you have to stay, Lavi! _Stay with me!_ Please… just… hold on, okay? Focus on my voice and _hold on tight._"

The words stream in through a filmy haze that muffles my hearing, rearing up from the darkness of my blind sight. It takes me a long moment to recognize the voice, and feel the arms around me. I mumble something incoherent, something unplanned and in complete gibberish. But it shows Allen that I'm still with him, albeit in heavy shock and striking pain.

"Thank God," he whispers, and I hazily sense the gentle, calming pressure of lips on my forehead. I'm hauled to my feet, but my knees lock and my arms sag, and I can't tell right from left. I'm dragged out into the dimming sunlight, only knowing it to be sunlight due to the orange blob in my vision that comes with closed eyelids in the light.

Within minutes the light is gone, and a cool breeze swarms me as night falls. I stumble into the cab of my truck and Allen buckles me in. I try to speak, to ask what happened with Tyki, but the sole sound which garbles off my tongue is a groan of agony.

"I'm getting both of you to a hospital," Allen says to me, and for a second I'm puzzled as to why he said 'both of you' when it's just me in the car with him. But I hear shuffling behind me, and as my head grows fuzzier I rationalize that Kanda is in the thin backseat, and must need medical attention as well.

I feel myself drift for a minute, my head hanging low near the window. My muscles begin to relax completely.

A short smack touches my bicep. I jump lazily at the contact. "Hey," Kanda's gruff voice utters, "Stay conscious. Allen would beat the shit out of me if I let you pass out while he's driving."

"Damn straight I would," Allen grinds out beside me. The car rages faster and faster as he pushes on ahead and away from the church. I shudder to think of what he type of scene he's fleeing from, but can't even shudder or think due to the lack of coherency in my head at the moment.

I hum something like agreement, and force my good eye open while one of my hands (I'm too dizzy-minded to know which) covers my wounded one; or should I say '_missing_?'

"Ll'n," I slur, and it's supposed to be Allen's name.

Luckily, he understands my meaning and replies with a soft, "Yes, Lavi?"

"L'v oo," I pant as the blood loss turns into fatigue, and my breath ends up drawing short. It's supposed to be a 'I love you,' although I doubt Allen understands me this time.

He doesn't. "Try not to speak, Lavi," he says. A cold laugh emits from his throat. "We don't have a translator for the language of barely-conscious men." I glance over at him, my eyelid drooping as I attempt to peer out of my good eye. I see Allen trembling; he's shaking his head at his own joke, his knuckles are vibrating on the steering wheel, and his very core – his heart and lungs – is shuddering against his seat. Even in my state, I feel awful for him, as if I failed to protect him from this whole ordeal.

o0-0o

Some time during the drive, I must have blacked out again, because the next thing I'm aware of is a stark white background with darkly illuminated windows. My mouth tastes _nasty_, like powdery medicine and iron and morning breath all rolled into one. I feel nauseous, too, like I need to vomit to clean my system, and yet I can't. There is a gauzy patch over my right eye, and it itches. There is also an IV in my left arm, and it makes me feel vulnerable. I want to pull it out, but know better than to do so.

I sigh and blink a few times. I don't like hospitals. Not that I'm afraid of them; I just don't prefer them.

"You're awake!" an unnaturally tired voice says in my ear, and I look over to my blind spot to find Allen in a very uncomfortable-looking chair with his arms around himself, as if he's cold or trying to comfort/keep himself together. He leaps up from the chair and grabs onto me, mindful of my wounds, and starts kissing me repeatedly from forehead to chin. "I was so scared, Lavi. I've never been more terrified for someone in my life."

"Why can't you be more afraid for yourself?" I croak, my throat dry enough to make my voice as hoarse as a smoker's. Allen hands me the water at my bedside, a confused frown on his face. I chug the water – purposely ignoring the stale taste – and clear my aching throat before I elaborate. "What happens to me doesn't matter as much as what happens to _you._ You're the one who's in more danger; you're younger than me; _and _it wouldn't be fair to me at all if – after finally being reunited with you – you end up dying on me." I force a smile. "Hmm, that almost makes me sound selfish. But I don't care; I can be pretty selfish at times, so it all works out."

Allen mirrors my forced smile. "Yeah, okay. I'll be sure to keep you in mind the next time I put myself at risk for something. But I don't think we'll be fighting like that again any time soon."

"Why do you think that?" I ask curiously.

Allen takes my right hand in his. "Because I did it. I feel guilty about it, like I did when the same happened to Rhode, but I did it."

"Like Rhode…?" I question, but a millisecond later it hits me. "You killed Tyki." I state flatly. My voice is kept low, out of hearing range of anyone who might be eavesdropping and could turn Allen into the authorities for murder (despite the fact that Tyki isn't human, but the justice system sure as hell doesn't know that).

Allen nods gravely. He grips my hand tighter. "I had to," he says brokenly, "For you. He hurt you – Goddammit, he _ripped out your eye _with his_ fucking _power! – and I couldn't let him get away with it. I wasn't fighting him wholeheartedly before because I thought, what's the point? And then he did this to you, and I swear, something burst inside of me, Lavi. It was like a dam exploded and all of the reservoir's water came gushing out as hot and boiling as a hot spring, and I just _had_ to destroy him."

The white-haired boy is crying quietly, his voice wavering now and then. He's looking for reassurance; he wants me to tell him that he did what he had to do, and that it's okay, and that he didn't have much of a choice, and blah blah blah.

And you know what? For once, all of those things are true. As Allen recuperates himself and stiffens, his tears vanishing as he wipes them away and sniffs, I tell him these things. I say to him with the kindest voice I can muster, "It's alright, Allen. You did well; he was evil, and crazed, and would have probably killed me if you hadn't stepped in and did what you did. That was brave of you, truly it was. So don't feel bad, okay? You probably aren't used to the feeling of death, and you probably don't see it, but you _saved my life._ So it was a good thing. Got it?"

"I got it," Allen murmurs, and gives my hand one last squeeze before leaning forward and kissing me hard on the lips. I don't see this coming in the least, since my wake-up kisses were everywhere on my face _except_ for my mouth.

"I probably taste bad," I whisper as soon as he releases my lips. "And this angle can't be very comfy for you."

"Yeah," Allen agrees with a smile, "But aside from the bedrail digging into my ribs and the bitter taste of that white rim around your mouth, it's not as bad as watching you bleed in the car seat next to me. So I really don't care."

I let out a small laugh. "That's so very _Allen Walker_ of you: thinking of everything before your own problems." I wince as I lean up to weakly brush my lips against his. "And I – hnn! – love that… about you…"

"Lavi?" Allen says with heavy concern, "Are you okay?"

"Nhg – I'm fine. Just a stitch in my side, that's all. It'll pass in a day… or so…" I grunt as I fall back against the thin pillows on my cot. After catching my breath once the pain recedes, I pat the empty space on the bed. "Why don't you climb up here and cuddle with me?"

Allen makes a face. "I dunno if I can, Lavi; what if I reopen one of your wounds?"

I shrug. "Then we call a nurse. Don't worry about it, alright? Just get up here; I want a teddy bear to hug and squeeze and love forever and ever."

"…Elmira quotes will get you nowhere, Lavi," Allen says with a roll of his eyes, but complies. He shifts his weight until he's on the bed, and then he slowly lowers himself to lie between my legs, his head propped under my chin. I can't see his face this way, but I can feel his warm body in front of mine, and that's enough.

"So," I say once he's situated, "Tell me what happened with Tyki and Lulubell after I lost my eye. What happened? Oh, but that reminds me: what did you and Kanda tell the doctors?"

"I said that you and Kanda were driving to a party and got into a car crash, so Kanda called me from your cell phone and told me to pick you two up in your truck and take you to the hospital. They asked why Kanda didn't call an ambulance instead, and he lied and said it was because the wounds didn't seem all that bad to him at the time, so he thought there was no need. Plus, he said, he trusted me over a group of paramedics, which I suppose is a small compliment coming from him."

I laugh, but cut it short because it hurts. "Yeah, that's the bastard's way of saying, 'I don't _completely_ hate you, Allen.'"

Allen settles against me more, and says with a smile in his voice, "It's funny, because I thought the same thing." He pauses, and by the new tone he uses, I know that his face has fallen. "Anyway, I guess I should tell you the gory details now…" He sighs. "It ain't pretty."

"I would be shocked if it was."

Allen shakes his head. "No, I mean: it's _seriously_ not pretty. Remember when Rhode died, it was like fragments of crystal being sprinkled on the ground, and there was a ton of light everywhere? Well, I'm thinking that's because she wasn't all that evil, and was ready to die. But when I killed Tyki…" I feel him cringe. He inhales shakily. "It was like gutting an elephant. I slashed him right in half – down the center of his face to his crotch – and out spilled all sorts of vile things, none of it truly bone or organs or blood, just onslaught of messy gunk and gravel and pus. It smelled like death, and yet everything was running purple and goldenrod and puke-green and shit-brown. It made me sick. But the weird part was, as soon as he was a pile of nothing on the dirty floor, he dissolved into black butterflies like shadows, and it all danced off into the hole in the roof where the stars were starting to shine." He sounds as though he's in awe. "It was horrible to watch, but I couldn't look away."

"How did you even defeat him?" I want to know.

Allen shrugs. "I'm not sure. It was like – after I pulled him off of you – he sort of… surrender himself to insanity. It made him sloppy on his guard, and in his attacks. So I timed it just right and, after leaping into the air off of a pew, I hit him. I hit him with all my might, and he stared at me a moment before a dull, grayish light split him in half. And then you know the rest."

"What about Lulubell?"

My lover tenses in my arms. "You're not going to like this."

"What? Why not?"

"Um, she kind of… took off. We don't know where she went. But as soon as she saw Tyki die, she stopped fighting Kanda and basically had a freak out. And then she fled," he answers honestly.

"Dammit!" I curse under my breath. Louder, I say, "We have to find her before she stirs up any trouble. Problem is, she could be _anybody._"

"I know," Allen nods grimly. "But we'll find her. I have my eye, remember?"

"Which reminds me…" I start languidly, "Do you think, after we defeat all of the Noahs, it will go away? Your arm, too? – 'Cause, like…" I struggle to find the right words in my jumbled brain. "It didn't even show up until the Noahs became involved with us, so… yeah," I finish lamely.

Allen giggles a little; I can feel his chest spasm, and hear the grin in his voice. "To be honest, I don't want to lose it when all the Noahs are gone. I know I called my arm and eye a curse in our past, but… I've kind of grown fond of it. It makes me feel special. Unique. And…" he drifts off, his voice turning so many octaves lower I can hardly hear him, "It makes me feel more like the version of me you used to love."

"You stupid-head," I relay patiently as I snuggle into him to the best of my ability without hurting myself, "I don't care about your eye and arm; I never have. I didn't care then if you had them, and I don't care now. I love you for who you are, not what you have or what you look like. Although," I add coyly, "Your adorable looks _do_ help a teeny bit."

The white-haired boy laughs again, this time with sound. He twists carefully around to wrap his arms around my waist and cradle his head on my chest. For a few minutes, he doesn't say anything, simply listens to my heartbeat. "Lavi?"

"Yes?" I yawn.

His eyes flutter closed. "When all of this stuff is over and done with, do you think we can be, y'know, a _normal _couple?"

I grin. "Allen, nothing with us is_ ever_ normal. Or easy. So I'm going to have to say, 'we'll see.'"

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he admits with a light sigh. "Still, I can dream."

"Dream away, love," I yawn for a second time. I rest my arms on the middle of his back and shut my eye as well. "And I'll dream with you."

"Are you sleepy, Lavi?" he asks, and lifts his head slightly to peer into my face.

I open my eyes. "Yeah. I think another round of drugs must be kicking in. Unless it's exhaustion. Either way, I'll be passing out soon. So if you feel like moving –"

"No," he says firmly, and his arms clench tighter around my waist for a moment.

"Suit yourself," I shrug, and then I fall asleep listening to the sound of our conjoined breathing patterns.

o0-0o

I'm released from the hospital two days subsequent to my initial awakening. I didn't want to leave, but I was practically shoved out the door. I dread going back to school; today is Sunday, so I have yet to reenter the university campus, but I have a sinking feeling that everyone in my classes – including my professors – are going to question why I've been ditching for the past couple days, and why I have a fresh black eye-patch over my right eye, above a thick square of gauze. Which, by the way, is completely disgusting; the stitches sewing my eyelid together to stop my socket from getting infected are bruised and oozing the thinnest layer of pus, and I can't help but to gag every time I remove the patches to clean the wound.

Speaking of wounds and college professors, I got to see Miranda and Krory the day of my hospital release. Krory has a bandage wrapped around his head and a cast over his leg, and Miranda's arm is in a sling, but other than that, the once-happy couple is doing just fine. Miranda is going to go back to her job the day I return to school (which is tomorrow. Uhg), and Krory is coping nicely by staying cooped up in his bed with his DVD player and ice cream.

Allen is over at my dorm room today. I refused to be at home with my grandfather; my apartment is much cozier, and less nagging. Here, I have free HD channels with movies playing all day long, and I have my PlayStation3. I'm content, and am being fussed over more than I would be with Gramps.

The white-haired boy looks a little worse for wear these days, like me, but he somehow has the energy to bug me constantly about hunger and thirst and bandage changing. I sigh and remind him that he doesn't need to be so mother-hen; I'm all right, really. But he wags his finger at me and reprimands, no, I am not all right, and I have to be careful unless I want to relapse into that scary near-coma state.

Sometimes, Allen is too caring for his own good.

"Allen," I emphasize, "_Seriously,_ stop fretting over me. I only lost an eye and got a few bruises –"

"On your _bones_ –"

I stare hard at him and continue, "– And some minor scratches. You, on the other hand, have mental trauma. I'm pretty sure psychological issues beat physicality issues."

"Says you," is his witty comeback.

I chuckle shortly and draw him into my arms. "Look," I say as I smell the fresh soapy scent of his hair, "Don't think about it. Just… I dunno… worry about something else. Like what you'll tell your high school on Monday, or what you're going to do about Link since you know that he'll be at your school."

"Oh… right," he says lamely. He plants a small kiss on my jaw, which he can reach is he lifts himself onto the balls of his feet. "Dammit. I wish I didn't have that stupid problem with the police."

"We have the deceased Tyki Mikk to thank for that," I grumble as I topple backwards and tug Allen down with me to splay onto my lap once I land on the loveseat. "But at least he's gone, now. All we have left to deal with is –"

"Lulubell," Allen finishes with distaste in his tone. "Bitch."

I laugh again at his bitterness. "Now Al, don't go calling people bad names."

"It's not a bad name, it's the technical term for a female dog."

I mock-frown at him. "Nice try, wise guy," I rhyme. "But that excuse won't save you every time."

He pauses, and adjusts his position to have each of his knees on either side of my thighs, his face hovering above my own, his hands on my shoulders. "Lavi," he frowns as one of his hands drift upwards to touch my eye patch, "You seem awfully cheerful for someone who had to fight a woman who could make herself look like your mother and then had to turn around and wrestle a man who tore your eye out through your eyelids. Why is that?" he inquires genuinely.

I shift my gaze to the armrest beside me. "Because I'm overjoyed that we're alive. I don't care about what happened, so long as we're both still _breathing_," I tell him honestly. "And that we both have such minor injuries. With someone like Tyki, it could have been much, much worse. Think about it: instead of my eye, he could have torn out a kidney or my heart or stomach or liver, and I would die from internal bleeding and the loss of an important organ. The same goes for you. So the fact that we're both still in one piece is a miracle I'm not about to neglect to appreciate."

"Oh," he murmurs as the truth of this dawns on him. "I suppose you're right. It's just… I felt so lost when you went into shock and blacked out. I guess you were right; I was psychologically scarred."

I smile kindly and lean up to lick the seam of his lips and apply pressure with my own. "But you'll be okay in due time. Stick with me, babe, and you'll be as right as rain in no time."

A sudden whirring noise disturbs my next kiss, and I jerk my head to the left to find a golden ball with flapping wings and a dangling tail.

"Timcanpi!" Allen exclaims, and he upturns one of his hands as he removes it from my shoulder. The ball lands in his palm, and I notice with small amusement that Tim is big enough to fill every inch of Allen's hand. "Where have you been, buddy?"

The little golem's mouth forms into a sad line, but since it can't speak on its own, it simply shakes itself side to side, as if to say, 'I'm sorry' or 'Don't ask.'

"Well, you're here now," Allen amends, and gives the golden orb a small kiss between its horns. "I can't believe you found me. But then again, you know both of Lavi's houses, don't you? You visit him sometimes."

It's true; Timcanpi does visit every once in a while, which is odd, since he was never that close to me in the past. But I suppose that being Allen's lover grants me the privilege of being one of the few humans whom Timcanpi is able to trust.

Timcanpi bristles in Allen's hand, as if anxious. Allen catches onto this straight away. "Is something wrong, Tim?"

Timcanpi nods, and proceeds to open his mouth and project an image in front of us. It is a moving image of a man shifting into Lulubell, and sneaking around an abandoned building before heading inside. "That must be where she's hiding," I whisper. I notice, too, that she appears hurt; but she can regenerate, so it doesn't make sense. Something must be wrong…

"Let's go after her," Allen bursts forward in a dark tone. He hobbles off to the side of me before using the couch as a lever to bring him to his feet.

"What?!" I say, scrambling up. "You can't be serious! Allen, we don't even know exactly where that is, and we don't have any sort of plan! What do you expect, we'll rush up to her and she'll give herself up?"

"No, but we have to do _something,_" Allen spits in aggravation. "She's out there, just waiting for her chance to strike; I'm sure of it."

"But, Allen…" I soothe, and turn him towards me. "We just won a battle, and I'm not ready to win the war quite yet. We have to take things slow, or else we'll wind up in body bags. Do you understand?"

He exhales through his teeth, a jagged searing noise like steam in a sauna reaching my ears. My lover runs a hand through his hair and nods once in acquiescence. "Yeah… yeah, I understand."

I ruffle his smoothed hair. "Good boy," I extol him with a smile. "Now then, would you like me to make lunch for us?"

"It's two thirty in the afternoon."

"So it's a _late_ lunch, but lunch nonetheless. Want it or not?" I ask with a raise of my eyebrow. Allen shrugs his shoulders, as if it doesn't matter whether he eats or not, and the action is unlike him. My brows furrow at this, and I narrow my eye at him. "Allen Walker, don't pull the 'I'm not that hungry' routine with me; it's not healthy for you to skip meals, and utterly uncharacteristic."

"But I don't want to force you to cook anything," he admits in a voice that could be considered complaining. "You're hurt, and –"

"I'll have you know that I'm fully capable of fixing my own meals," I sniff, my ego damaged. "And a meal for you, too, if I make double what I usually do, which isn't hard at all. So if you're truly hungry, I'll go start some Mac and Cheese, and throw a couple hamburgers in a frying pan."

"Okay." He pauses to peer down shyly at his feet. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, silly," I say, a grin returning to my lips. "You're simply too thoughtful."

"Gee, thanks," he says sarcastically as he straightens himself and starts to walk into the kitchen.

"It's actually a compliment." I follow him into the kitchen and take out a pan. I slide across the flooring on my socks to retrieve some pre-made hamburgers in the freezer, and while they thaw in their plastic wrapping under the hot water in the sink, I get out another pan and the box of Mac and Cheese – the creamy shells and cheese kind – and use the water from my fridge to fill the pan (it tastes better than the sink water).

Allen watches my every movement with his eyes, and I somewhat enjoy the weight of such attention, because it reminds me of the 'old days.'

The minute silence bothers me; it isn't awkward, since Allen and I are so comfortable with one another, but it does feel… how should I say this?... sad? Cold? Something along those lines. So, clearing my throat, I begin, "You know, we never got around to talking about anything school-related. What classes do you have this semester? I wonder if they're with any of the teachers I've had."

"I'm only a sophomore, so some of the really cool classes aren't open to me yet, but I am in the honors history and English classes," Allen states casually.

"Really?" I beam over my shoulder as I take the hamburgers out of their packaging. "I was in all honors classes when I was in high school, so I bet we had some of the same classes. Who's your teacher for English?"

"Mrs. Currie," he says brightly. "She's extremely nice; she gives us extensions on our papers if we ask, and she helps us with our homework as much as possible."

"Yeah, I had her, too, in my sophomore year; she's a blonde, right? And really short?"

"Not that short," Allen grumbles defensively. "She's my height."

I chuckle. "Exactly. So she's short."

"I'm not short, and neither is she! We're…" he struggles for the proper description. "Fun-sized."

"You got that from a t-shirt," I accuse.

He laughs, and the sound is pleasant and startling because he hasn't laughed like that in days. He's about to make a snappy comeback I'm sure, but he's suddenly distracted by the window. "Whoa!"

"What is it?" I ask, and turn my head to find snow flurrying to the ground outside of the window. Snow in late October isn't unheard of, but it isn't very common, either. I grin at the white flakes, reminiscent of times featuring their chilly imagery.

Allen doesn't say much for a while, merely stares out into the open parking lot behind my apartment. He studies with his eyes the way the snowflakes fall haphazardly onto cars and the pavement, sticking to the metal but melting on contact with the black asphalt. I finish making lunch and serve it to him, and we converse mildly about our schools while we eat.

But I get the feeling that Allen doesn't want to talk about these things; I have a hunch that he would rather be talking about tracking Lulubell.

Timcanpi munches on some of my unfinished Mac, and I lean back in my chair to witness the gears turning behind Allen's eyes. "What cha thinkin' about?" I wonder aloud, and I bring my brows together subtly over my choice of words. Sometimes I sound totally unintelligent. It's annoying, but it's just how my words come out.

My boyfriend doesn't respond. And that tells me right off the bat that he's hiding his thoughts from me. Which only makes sense, especially if they are centered on that damn Noah like I know they are.

I shake my head at him. "Allen, you can't fool me; I know what you're thinking, but I didn't want to be so impolite as not to ask."

He shrugs his shoulders and dusts the crumbs of his hamburger bun from his fingers. "You have got to stop reading my mind, Lavi; it's getting redundant."

"What's redundant is your thought process! Why can't you leave things alone?" I grumble in irritation. "We're safe for now. Lulubell isn't coming after us, and Tyki and Rhode are gone. Kro-chan and Miranda are secure where they are, and right now Link doesn't know where you're at. So please, Allen, I'm begging you: take your mind off of the distant problems and try to focus on the current moment." I'm pleading now, and the desperate tone sounds out of place in a voice like mine, but Allen seems to be softening.

"I know. I know, okay? You keep telling me, so I _know,_ but that doesn't change the fact that I feel the need to finish off what was started." He says, and I jerk back in surprise. Allen was always a determined individual, and yet, somehow… it's grown. He now has this weird sense of justice, of making things right, and paired with his mindset to complete his tasks (no matter how gruesome they may be), it's driven him to become this… this… _obsessed person_ that I'm not used to knowing. I mean, when Allen went through the whole fourteenth thing, I stood by him no matter how semi-crazed he became, but this is different. Less unsettling, sure, but similar in a contorted manner.

I stand up and move to the spot behind his chair, against the wall. I grip his shoulders and massage soothingly. "Tomorrow, after school," I say, "We'll go. I'll come pick you up from the high school and we'll go wherever your observant, Noah-tracking eye will lead us, and we'll take care of her." I release him. "Satisfied?"

Allen exhales slowly and nods his head. "Yeah." He arches his back and cranes his neck to peer up at my face. "Thanks, Lavi."

"Tch," I click my tongue, "It's not something you should be thanking me for, because this means that we have to temporarily play the role of the villains and resort to playing the last level, the endgame, to settle the score with a wounded woman. Because I don't know if you noticed, Allen, but something was messed up in that video Timcanpi showed us; Lulubell was _bleeding._"

"No, I did see that," he argues, and stands up to crack his back with a twist of his body. He turns towards me, and I slip out from behind the chair. "And it's all the more reason for me to go and find her."

I'm taken aback. "Allen!" I hiss, "You're not seriously considering kicking a dead horse, are you?" I accuse as I use an old phrase.

He shakes his head viciously and clenches his hands defensively. "No, of 'course not, you idiot! – It's all the more reason to find her because I want to see if I can try and _help_ her. I don't think I'll have to totally obliterate her like I did Tyki and Rhode; I think, deep down, Lulubell has always wanted to change and run away, and now's her chance."

I soften, realizing that Allen is the same old Allen after all, and that he hadn't gone off the deep end. "Okay," I say. "That's fine, then. It's really good, in fact." I nod a few times to myself. Then, I send Allen one of my more sincere smiles. "In that case, love, I'm backing you up one hundred percent."

His tense, defensive posture retreating. "Good. To be honest, Lavi, I was relying on you saying that, because I can't do this on my own."

"And I wouldn't want you to do it yourself," I add. I step forward to hold his chin in my hand. I stare into his blue-grey orbs with my single green one, and I wonder for a minute if he's waiting for me to kiss him. But I'm not going to; not this time. Instead, I flash a devious grin and ask, "Are you up for a snowball fight?"

He bats my hand away and laughs. "Lavi, there is hardly any snow on the ground yet."

"There's enough on the cars, though," I point out. I nudge him with my elbow. "C'mon. Let's go have a little fun to take the edge off."

He searches my face for any indication of hidden meaning, and when he finds none, says, "Yeah, alright." He heads for the door. "I'll race you."

I smile, thinking back to our last race at his home, a feat I happily trumped him in. "You're on."

* * *

**Next chapter:**

_[16]__  
__.Correcting Mistakes._


	16. Correcting Mistakes

**A/N: This is the final chapter! I apologize in waiting so long for it to come out, and to be honest, this didn't go exactly as I had originally planned, but I like it anyhow, and I hope that you do as well. Thank you all so much for all of the favorites, alerts, and reviews for this story, and overall support of its pairings! It means a lot to me. And even though this might not be as long as you (or I) thought, nor as solid as you (or I) might have hoped**, **just know that I was determined to finish this for all of you, and that I couldn't stand to leave it hanging any longer. XD**

* * *

_[16]  
.Correcting Mistakes._

I pace in front of my car, the cold air of winter frosting over my skin. I shiver, although I feel more uneasy than chilly.

I listen intently to the breeze, waiting for it to be shattered by a school bell. I never much liked high school; it felt too obscure for me. Not academically, but in everyway else. I sigh, my breath a puff of misty white lke cigarette smoke. I count how many seconds it takes before the puff disperses, my mind bored and my body too anxious to formulate much more thought than simply counting. It's a wonder that I was even able to drive here from the college campus…

Just then, a bell resonates throughout the parking lot, sounding from the school and bouncing off of the parked cars in the senior lot. I nearly jump out of my skin, but I recollect myself as the same moment as the first few students begin filing out of the school, their backs rigid as the cold seeps in through their thin coats.

I scan the crowd, looking for snow-white hair. I bet everybody thought Allen bleached it or something; poor souls, they hardly know what is truly going on around them in this godforsaken city. Aside form their art teacher being killed about a week ago. I'm sure they've heard all about that. Come to think of it, I never asked Allen if anyody accused him of committing that crime like the police think…

My thoughts are cut off once again as Inspector Link pops up (quite literally) behind me. "Hullo, Mr. Deak," he greets, and a new tremor sizzles down my spine.

"Yip!" I squeak. I blink and furrow my brows. "What the hell are you dong, sneaking up on people like that?! Was it your intention to give me a heart attack?"

Link forces a grimace of a smile. "No, that was not my intention. I am merely making doubly sure that Allen Walker does not go anywhere un-permitted by the law after school."

"I've been keeping my eye on him," I reply with a roll of my eye. This guy is still suspicious of my Allen, isn't he? Why can't he learn to leave things alone?

"Yes, I can very well see that; what happened to your other eye recently, I wonder? You're wearing a patch. And you should be aware of this already, but no matter what you say, I can't very well take a fellow suspect's word for it, can I?" Link retorts, his voice toneless, but his brows inquisitive. "Which reminds me: where are you taking him this time?"

All of his questions are making me dizzy. I frown even further, one of my brows twitching in irritation. "I lost my eye while playing around with my little cousin and his BB-gun, if you must know. And I'm just taking Allen around the city. He hasn't lived here very long yet, so I thought I might show him around a bit," I say calmly. In truth, we're going to drive aimlessly until his eye goes off like the Noah-radar that it is. We hope to locate Lulubell today.

Link eyes me warily, but nods once. "Alright. Carry on, then." And he walks away, just like that.

Stare after him a moment and shake my head. Sighing, I return my attention to the rear entrance of the school, and lo and behold, Allen appears in my line of vision. I can't hold back the bright smile that breaks out on my face when I see him. I wave enthusiastically. "Allen, Alllllleeeen! Over here!"

His unique face is cast in my direction, a smile not unlike my own appearing on his lips. He jogs towards me, one hand to his backpack strap to keep it from bobbing too much on his shoulders. My eyes soften as he stops in front of me. "Are we all set to go?" he asks.

I wink. "Of 'course. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well," Allen says, making a face as he gets into the passenger side of my faithful vehicle, "I've been thinking about this all day, and I'm starting to grow more and more unsure. And, I thought, if I'm becoming unsure, how must Lavi feel?" He glances sideways at me, his hands twisting in his lap. "So, the question stands: how _do_ you feel, Lavi?"

I hesitate to answer. I restart my car while I think, ad I spot Allen taking Timcanpi out of his backpack to feed the little golem a leftover from lunch. "Didn't we already discuss this yesterday, before our snowball fight?" I answer vaguely.

I can see Allen frown in the rearview mirror, since I forgot to readjust it. I hear the rustling of his arms being crossed over his chest. "Don't brush this off, Lavi. I need to know if you're okay with this; after all, we're stalking a wounded woman, an old enemy, and possibly the key to proving my innocence or confirming my guiltiness."

He has a point; a very equitable one. I sigh for the third time in what feels like five minutes. We're on the road, now, and I keep my eyes ahead of me as I respond with: "I am very well aware of what we're doing, Allen, and I see no reason not to follow through. I'm not comfortable with the circumstances, but I'm not about to full-out reject the prospect of helping you, either. So here I am, caught in the middle. What else can I do but go along with this, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst? – That's honestly how I feel."

My lover is silent for a moment. Then, slowly, he tells me, "If that's how you feel, then I suppose we should keep going. I'll start looking for her, and you only have to worry about driving."

"Fine by me," I shrug, and turn down another road. I hate that one of my eyes is missing for my second lifetime in a row; it still throbs on occasion (it is worse, tough, with headaches, like the one I got last night from being out in the cold for too long with Allen), and it makes driving all the more difficult. I mean, I'm slowly re-training myself to see with one eyeball again, but it is not like riding a bike; it takes time to re-learn the practice of being observant with one eye. It's not at all instantaneous.

An hour passes before I realize it, and Allen appears to be falling asleep. I reach over with one hand and nudge him. "Oi, Allen; are you still with me?"

He yawns. "Yeah. But I couldn't sleep much last night, so I've been dozing on and off all day. My teachers were getting pretty angry with me, but I didn't care. Which, in retrospect, probably only made them even more angry." He chuckles lightly, and I can imagine that he would be rubbing one of his eyes like he used to when he got tired on missions for the Order. "I had nightmares again."

"What about?" I murmur. I'm all too aware of how frightening Allen's dreams can be.

He shudders. "It was of the Earl, and the final battle. I finally remembered it, and I have to say, I didn't like seeing it happen, my dream-self unable to stop my past-self from making so many mistakes."

"What kinds of mistakes?" I pose as I glance quickly over at Allen. His eyes are on the passing scenery full of people and other cars, but I can tell that his mind is disconnected from the sights.

"The mistake of leaving you and our comrades by yourselves in order to wreak my own revenge," he whispers, and I nearly don't catch the regretful hitch in his breath at the end.

"Hey," I say softly, and bring one hand up to my blindsight to soothingly stroke his forearm, "Don't go blaming yourself for any of that. It's all in the past. What matters now is that our friends are alive and well, and safe from the Earl and the worst of the Noah. Like you said before: there is but one problem left. And look: we're taking care of it right now! Everything will be just dandy," I grin, hoping to cheer him up.

It works. Or, at least, part of it does. "Who says 'dandy' any more?" And by that, I know that Allen will be alright.

We stew in a comfortable silence for a little while, but it's interrupted by the chime of my gas meter, telling me that it's almost on 'E' and that I should fill it up. I pull into a gas station a minute later.

But as I have the pump in and the tank about halfway full, Allen's head pops out of the window and he shouts, "I see her, I see her!"

"What?!" I yell, and nearly break the end of the pump as I yank it out, pay quickly with my credit card, and slam the little door shut, the cap not even screwed on properly. I race back into the driver's seat and remove my keys from the still-running car as I watch Allen race off into an alleyway behind the gas station. "Allen, wait!" I scream, but that boy is fast; he is already too far ahead to hear me. Groaning to myself, I lock my car and hope that no one does anything to it as I leave it parked in front of the pump.

I chase after my boyfriend with he tenacity of an Olympic track runner. My breathing escalates quickly, and I feel like my cardiovascular endurance is as shitty as a seventy-year-old man's as I charge around a corner at the end of the alleyway and continue my pursuit. Sure enough, Allen is running after a man who is changing into a woman with each passing second as he/she bolts down a vacant lot littered with ice and dead weeds.

Panting, I slow to a stop and hunch over my knees to breathe as I hear a wail and the crashing of bodies into a pile of plowed snow. Lulubell is beating wildly at Allen with kicks and punches that could knock out an ox. She screams multiple times, but Allen pins her with his transformed arm.

I jog over to them with the last of my strength, and arrive in time to hear the frantic words, "Please don't kill me!"

Allen pushes himself up from his position over Lulubell and sees at the same time I do the raw fear in her eyes. Her lower lip quivers and tears start to stream down her beautiful face. She used to look tricky and menacing back in the Black Order days… but now, she simply appears weak and afraid.

"Please," she pleads in a whisper what could charm a cold-hearted snake, "I don't want to die."

Allen blinks, confusion as apparent on his face as I sure it is on mine. I realize that she is no longer bleeding like I last saw of her (the immortal must heal quickly, I rationalize), and I'm suddenly reminded of our conversation in the kitchen. "So… you're just giving yourself up?" I say to Lulubell, and I can tell by the look on his face that Allen is wondering the same thing.

She casts her gaze to the pavement, and she shivers a few times. Allen doesn't relinquish his hold on her, making sure that she doesn't run away.

Her voice is soft and her words come out in a hysteric rush. "I told him that I didn't want to do it. I told him that it was silly, that we should enjoy our everlasting lives instead of use it on revenge, because as much as I used to want it, I lost the taste for it after the first seventy-five years. But he wouldn't accept it. He did everything in his power to keep me in on his plans, to make sure that I remain furious at you and all of the other Exorcists. But I was tired. And now I'm plain exhausted; I don't want to do this any more! I'm tired of shifting from one person to the next, I was tired of being his minion, and I'm tired of hurting. I just want it to go away. Living for so long… it's not natural, and I finally see why: because it's fucking_ Hell_. Hell on Earth, complete with all of the personal demons and fiery suffering." She's crying, her lovely face burning pink and her limbs being shaken by her quivering shoulders. She sniffles and goes on to say, "I just want to make things right, and start over. I want a permanent new face, and a new life, and I want to try and live normally this time before I die once and for all. I want to grow old, and I want to love, and I want to stop cowering in fear. Before, he would have killed me. But he's gone, right? You killed him, right? He was insane, and even though I used to never be afraid of anything, I was terrified of him. He went mad trying to get back at you two; he would beat Rhode and I." A sob rips from her throat, and Allen eases off of her as he timidly pats her shoulder. Now this was different: comforting the enemy. "I hated it. I grew to hate him. But he's finally gone, right? Tell me what Tyki Mikk is no more."

Allen sends me a melted expression before turning to her and nodding his head firmly. "Tyki Mikk is dead Lulubell. I swear on my life that I am not lying when I say that he is dead."

"Oh, thank goodness," she sobs, and her heads shakes back and forth as she attempts to calm herself. "But I don't want to join him. Can you give me a second chance? I want it so badly. I want to _live_."

So that was why she resisted, and why she went on a tangent against us: she was only trying to protect herself from Tyki's wrath, and from Allen's (apparent to her, although not entirely true) desire to kill off every last Noah.

Allen touches her shoulder again. "Don't worry, Lulubell; we're not heartless. We'll help you. And you know what? I think that I can fix your situation. I think I might have the power to purify you, and by doing so, I can make you mortal again, _human_." He stresses the last word with a rich tone of voice that is rare to hear come from his mouth. "What do you say, Lulu? Will you take that chance?"

She nearly bursts into another round of tears. She is so much more fragile than I remember, but positively so. "Yes," she mutters thickly. "Yes."

"Good. But first, could you do me a favor?" Allen remarks with slight embarrassment. "I hate to ask it of you, considering the state you're in, but I'm kind of in deep trouble with the police thanks to Tyki…"

"Shit, I almost forgot about that," Lulubell curses under her breath. Louder, she replies, "Of 'course I'll help you; it's actually my fault, since I impersonated you. I'm sorry about that, but…" Her eyes flash once again with fear.

"I know," Allen says gently, "He was going to kill you if you didn't. I understand."

She nods meekly. "I can mend that problem today, if you like. But how shall I do that? – Should I be somebody else who looks similar to you and was in fact the killer, or…" Lulubell leaves it open for us to decide.

Allen tilts his head up slightly, a sinister expression flooding his features. We could dress you up as Tyki and prove that he was the one who did it," he smirks. "And then, when the police go looking for him, they won't find him, and they'll be off my back forever. Especially Link." He seems particularly pleased with this last statement, and I chuckle at his weariness of the detective despite myself.

Lulubell gets a similar dastardly grin on her face. "I would love to do that," she tells us. "It would almost be like payback for what he's done to me."

"Then it's settled," Allen smiles, less evilly now. "You will help clear my name, and I will help give you a new life, like the new lives Lavi and I have."

"Thank you," she says, and I see that Lulubell isn't at all as bad as she used to be. Over the years, it seems, her hardships have made her grow into something more. Something with inhibitions, morals, and something akin to a soul: essentially, a human being.

o0-0o

I lean over and kiss Allen on the cheek as soon as the private courts lets out following Allen's release and declaration of being not guilty. He smiles and steps out onto the street as Lulubell appears behind him, having changed back from a "mysterious witness" that had testified against "Tyki," both of which had been her at separate periods.

Allen lops his arm around Lulu's shoulders, and turns to ask her as we approach my truck, "When do you want me to turn you mortal?"

"Today, I you don't mind," she says softly. "But we need to be someplace where others can't see."

"I agree," I say. "So how about we go to my apartment?"

"Fine by me," Lulubell shrugs. "And thank you again, boys; I know that I've done horrible things to you in the past, but I have changed, and I am more than ready for additional change. And just think: after today, you will never see my face again."

Allen's beam directed at her in this moment is enough to warm my insides. He can see the good and bad in people, cursed/magic eye or not. And I know she must be telling the truth, because right now, the sole thing Allen is reflecting is warmth towards the goodness in her heart.

We climb into my truck and drive in radio-silence (a term Gramps made up when I was child that refers to when the passengers of a car are quiet but the radio is playing in the background) to my living quarters. It's a funny thing, calling my home by that name like I used to call my bedroom back at the Order. So much has changed from one life to the other, and yet… some things have not. And it's nice to know that not everything has to be changed, or will change. It's nice to know that, in some ways, life is repetitive and therefore solid enough to rely on.

Once parked, Allen and Lulubell casually step out of my truck and head up to the building. Lulubell has a hop in her step that I've never seen from her prior to now, but it reminds me of how Linalee walks when she's happy about something. Curiously cocking my head to the right, I pace along behind the two with my hands in my pockets. Allen is chatting to Lulubell as if she had never been our enemy, and she is smiling and even giggling a little bit as if she had never been working for 'the dark side'. It's a curious thing to witness, and I can't muffle the snort that erupts as I choke on nervous, giddy laughter.

We step altogether into the threshold of my home, the lights being flicked on by Allen. Lulubell walks over to the center of my living room, and simply turns and stands there, waiting. She watches Allen with keen interest as the white-haired boy makes his sword appear, although it is differently colored and shaped: thin and black, and short, like a dagger. I'm suddenly reminded of Juliet from the ever-famous Shakespeare play. But a white cross is printed on the handle, which is merged with Allen's forearm. It looks bizarre, but after having seen just about every twist and turn Allen's arm has taken over the years, both past and present, I'm used to surprises.

"Together?" my lover asks, his tone offering kindness in support of the singularly spoken word. He holds up his arm between them, bent at the elbow so not to stab her.

"Together," she agrees, and weaves her fingers together, one palm on either side of Allen's wrist/the handle at the base of the blade.

I watch, captivated by their miraculously formed level of trust after a month, since the trial process had taken as long following Lulubell's capture.

In one fluid gesture, Allen forces his arm forward just as Lulubell shoves it towards her, and all at once, light bursts forth from the Noah's chest. Her eyes close as if in sleep. I'm temporarily blinded by the increase of light as Allen's dagger pierces deep into Lulubell's heart.

I hear something thud to the floor. I open my eyes in time to see a strange girl unknown to me quake with a seizure-like sequence of shudders until she is balled on her side like a fetus in a womb. Her closed eyes relax at the brows, and her breath grows still.

Allen bites his cheek as his arms returns to normal. "She's not… dead, is she?" he chokes, and collapses to his knees before her.

The girl gasps for air and bolts upwards a moment later, relief spreading throughout my body for my sake as well as Allen's. I can see similar relief in his eyes.

Blinking, she looks around the room. "Did it work? I don't feel any different."

"Maybe not, but you sure look different." I remark with a low whistle. Her voice is the only thing that reminds me that the girl following the flash of light is the same as the Noah beforehand. This girl, I remind myself, is no stranger; it is still Lulubell. "See?" I say, and grab a mirror off one of my walls to hold up to her.

She gasps, and two tears slip from her eyes, one from each. "This… is my old face," she murmurs. While she is not as beautiful as she had been as the Noah of Lust, she is pretty in her own way, and has blonde hair with vibrant blue-green eyes, so pale that they would seem grey at a distance. A beauty mark, starkly brown against her creamy skin, is just above her breastbone, and her frame is slightly wider at her shoulders and hips, but she is far from broad in any meaning of the word.

"Your old face from before you were a Noah? How do you know?" Allen asks for clarification.

She nods. "Yes, it is. And I don't know how I know, but I just do." She smiles, her teeth slightly crooked on the bottom row, but perfectly white. "I'm so happy."

She scrambles to her feet and looks in the mirror after I replace it on the nail in the wall. "I need a name. I can't be Lulubell any longer; it's not modern enough."

"I've always liked the name Lilah," Allen remarks with a shrug. "And it still starts with an 'L' like 'Lulubell'."

"Come on, Allen, she's not going to want a name like that," I scoff. "It's too bland."

"No," Lulubell frowns in thought, "No, I disagree. I like it. Lilah… Lilah Horne. Horne is an okay last name, isn't it?"

"Sure, I guess," I shrug. Fine, like his idea; it's not like I was thinking of a better name or anything. Humph.

She smiles wider. "Good, because I've always liked the name Horne. It reminds me of hornets, and hornets are wicked fast and have a wicked sting, which is a charming personality in my opinion. And it's one I can build easily."

Allen nods. "Lilah Horne it is, then. You can go to the courthouse and legally change your name to that if you like. And you can start your new life, beginning with moving elsewhere and getting a job, or going to college. Right?"

Lulubell giggles a tad uncertainly. "I suppose so, although I've never tried living that way; at least not as far as I can recall. But I can try now."

"Indeed you can," Allen says, and offers his right hand. Lulubell shakes it. "I bid you farewell, Lilah Horne, and I can't help but wonder if we'll see you again."

"You might," she answers as she lets go of his hand. "Or you might not. It depends on where life takes me." She turns to me next. "Goodbye, Lavi Deak."

I sigh, reluctantly offering her my hand. "Bye." But as she starts to clasp it, she yanks me forward into a hug. "Hey!" I protest.

"I always thought you were cute," she whispers in my ear, "And thought what a shame it was that you were taken. Rhode felt the same way about Allen, once."

I flush, contrary to what emotion I want to express. "Yeah, well."

She laughs as she releases me. "'Well' nothing. You don't have to worry about it." And she spins on her heel to leave. She lingers in the doorway long enough to say, "Good luck!" and flies down the hall to the elevator.

I run my hand through my hair and lightly touch my eye patch before peering over at Allen. "What a day, eh, Allen?"

He studies me, traces of month-old injuries and all, and as he begins to speak, I spy the returning of color to his hair – mousy brown once more – and the removal of the discolor in his eye. His scar, too, fades from blood-red to a pale pink, and then a light peach o match the rest of his skin, the only trace of the pentagon and lightning bolt ever having been there being an indent, like a war-scar from over a decade before. I gape at him, his appearance having changed within two minutes. He trails off in his sentence (I don't even know what or how much he has said) to frown at me.

"What?"

"You… you look like how I met you! When we were at Linalee's birthday party! You look…" Amazing, like always, but so _weird._ I've never seen him exactly like this, but I dare say that I love it. "Different," I finish. And I'm puzzled, because the only explanation for his white-haired, bloody-scarred appearance had because the Noahs were acting up, and I suppose the only explanation for his reversion is because the Noahs are no longer a threat, nor in existence (Lulubell had been the last, and now she's human).

Allen steps over to the mirror Lulubell had been using moments ago, and the shock is as plain as the nose on his face. "Holy shit!"

I laugh and shimmy up behind him to wrap my arms around his waist. I tilt my head sideways. "You know, I kind of miss the white hair; I was just getting re-used to it. But you look good as a brunet, too." I reach up t trace his scar the way I see it reflected in the mirror. "And this feels cool. Touch it; I bet it doesn't hurt any more."

And I'm right, because he doesn't wince as his fingers join mine. He shifts in my arms to face me. "Does this mean that we get to start fresh, like Lulubell?"

"I don't think, I _know_ it does," I murmur happily as I lean forward to press my forehead to his, our noses brushing. "And this time, we'll do things differently. Our mistakes from our past lives have been corrected, and all that's left is a clean slate." I give him a peck on the lips, his eyes having been closed the second I leaned in. "…And the first thing I'm doing with tat slate is taking you out on a real date, and be the most devoted boyfriend ever."

"That is so cheesy, Lavi," Allen snorts, but he doesn't open his eyes and he presses his lips to my chin. "But that's gotta be the best idea I've ever heard come from your mouth in a long time."

I laugh and give the younger boy a squeeze. "A deal is a deal, Allen. Your name is cleared, and both Lulubell and the two of us get a fresh start. And I plan on making the best of it to make up for what we were denied the first time around."

"Being Exorcists didn't deny us anything, Lavi," Allen argues as he leans away far enough to look me in the eye. "It was because of our jobs that we met, and because of those circumstances that we fell in love to begin with. And we had to sneak our love, and we have to conceal our feelings when the other was in danger so not to create more trouble, but we still made it. We were still a couple. And we can be again in the present; the only difference is, we died young the first time, and now we have the rest of our lives."

I grin. "You know something, Allen? You're absolutely correct. What was I thinking?" and I kiss him again, because I can never get enough of the wetness of his tongue and the fullness of his lips and the taste and feel of him.

And with the way things worked out, we won't be the only couple to enjoy these things; Linalee and Kanda, and Krory and Miranda can be just as happy, too, in due time.

And that seems perfect from where I'm standing, even if every remaining figment of the past will be eventually forgotten.

…Except I will dedicate a part of my heart and mind to remember the past enough for all of us.

_.Fin._


End file.
